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HELENA 



“ ’Tis strange, but true ; for truth is always strange. 
Stranger than fiction. If it could be told, 

How much would novels gain by the exchange I 
How differently the world would men behold !” 

—Byron. 



NEW YOR,K: 

COPYRIGHT, 18»t, lY 

G. TV, Dillingham Co,y Publishers ^ 

MDCCCXCIX. 

\All rights reserved.] 

1 


TWO COPicb iiS-ceiVEDe 





AUTHOR’S NOTE. 


While this work is a novel pure and simple, many of its 
incidents are taken from real life. 

The history of Mrs. Helena Brannan is that of one with 
whom I had a long personal acquaintance and with a single 
exception is related with strict fidelity to truth. The one 
exception is that the real woman had no daughter by a first 
marriage. That fiction is resorted to in order to enable me 
to weave another life drama into her true story. 

The ‘‘Old Maid’s Club ” and “Raging Tads Society” 
for the ends and purposes described, had actual existence. 
The fortune-teller’s story, so far as the medical examination 
in the army is concerned, is literally true. The double life 
of Captain Brannan is a matter of history, easy of authenti- 
cation in nearly every detail. The double life of Herman 
Clark is introduced to illustrate and teach a lesson drawn 
from the character of one who is thoroughly orthodox in re- 
ligious professions, who always praises honor and virtue and 
strongly condemns all sin as sin, and yet habitually and un- 
hesitatingly indulges in sin. I have purposely avoided word- 
painting in descriptions of persons and places and all moral- 
izing, leaving the actions and words of the characters as re- 
corded to teach the lesson intended to be conveyed. 

H. S. IRWIN. 

Louisville, Ky. 

Jan. lo, 1899. 











CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER page 


I. The New Arrival 


9 

II. The Timid Lover 


. i6 

III. The Entertainment 


• 25 

IV. A Moonlight Ride 


• 35 

V. The Cabin on the Cliff 


. 44 

VI. An Unexpected Result 


. 58 

VII. Mother and Daughter 


. 65 

VIII. Deux Cartes De Visite 


• 74 

IX. The Fortune-teller’s Story 


. 82 

X. The Missing Wife Found . 


• 95 

XI. The Old Maids’ Club 


. 112 

XII. The Dromio Lovers . 


. 124 

XIII. A Villainous Plot 


. 138 

XIV. Baseness of a Rival . 


• 143 

XV. Arrest for Forgery 


• 153 

XVI. A Friend and an Enemy at Work 

. 158 

XVII. The Enemy Still at Work 


. 165 

XVIII. The Search Resumed 


• 171 

XIX. Mental Telegraphy 


. 178 

XX. The Hard Heart Softened 

. 

. 185 


[ 7 J 


S CONTENtS. 

Chapter Page 

XXL Trial of St. Clair .... 190 
XXII. The Raging Tads .... 198 
XXIII. Tragic Scene in Court . . . 205 

XXIV. The Avenger’s Fate . . .212 

XXV. The Unexpected Message . .221 

XXVI. Confession of Crime . . . 226 

XXVII. In the Toils 234 

XXVIII. Unmasked 244 

XXIX. True and yet Untrue . . . 254 

XXX. None so Fair as She . . . 260 

XXXI. The Log Cabin Metamorphosed . 269 


HELENA. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE NEW ARRIVALS. 

fill this cup to one made up 
Of loveliness alone, — 

A woman, of her gentle sex, 

The seeming paragon. 

To whom the better elements 
And kindly stars have given 
A form so fair that, like the air, 

’Tis less of earth than heaven.’^ 

— Pinckney. 

^^Here you are, Frank, on time, as usual,’" exclaimed 
Harry Thorne, as his friend, Frank Burton, entered 
the law office of Triston & Son, in the town of Corinth. 
“I have just finished my day’s task, and am ready for 
our conference.” 

‘‘Do you feel competent to turn your great, legal 
mind from the ponderous subjects of jurisprudence to 
the light mental exercises of a committee on pro- 
to] 


10 


HELENA. 


gram ?” replied Frank, as he seated himself in a 
comfortable office-chair. 

^‘Oh, yes; even great minds must have relaxation.’^ 

^‘Before we begin our work, I hope you can satisfy 
my consuming curiosity regarding the middle-aged 
lady and the beautiful young lady who occupied seats 
in the pew with Lawyer Triston’s family last Sunday. 
You doubtless imagine that my anxiety is wholly to 
know about the elder of the two, but, to be as frank 
as my name entitles me to be. I’ll confess I ask about 
both, only that I may learn of one.” 

“Be careful, my boy; don’t lose your heart at first 
sight of an unknown young lady, even if she is mar- 
velously attractive.” 

“Don’t be uneasy, Harry; there is no danger. There 
might be, except for the fact that a certain little bright- 
eyed blonde I have known all my life has full posses- 
sion of all the heart Frank Burton ever had, or ever 
will have. ” 

“Loyally said, my dear Frank. I feel perfectly as- 
sured that the aforesaid bright-eyed blonde will never 
have cause to experience jealousy’s dread pangs. But 
to your question: I am sorry that I have but little 
more light than yourself. I only know that the name 
of the elder lady is Mrs. Helena Brannan; and the 
young lady is her daughter by a former marriage, an- 
swering to the name of Miss Katie Gardiner. They 
are old friends of Mr. Triston, and have accepted an 
invitation to make their home with him for a time. 
I shall soon have more information to impart, as I am 
invited to spend to-morrow evening at Mr. Triston’s 


THE NEW ARRIVALS. 


II 


house. After that, I can — but here comes Mr. Tris- 
ton; he can enlighten us concerning the new additions 
to the social circle of our little city.” 

William Triston, the senior member of the law firm 
of Triston & Son, at this moment entered his office, 
and pleasantly greeted the young men, both of whom 
he had known from their early boyhood. He was a 
man of handsome personal appearance, with a kindly 
face and prepossessing manners. He had been living 
for many years in his present location in the town of 
Corinth. Although Corinth had not a large popula- 
tion, it was surrounded by a fertile and prosperous 
farming district, and affording a fair opportunity for 
an able and energetic lawyer to obtain a lucrative 
practice. A few years previous to the opening of our 
story he had taken his son Robert into partnership; 
and recently, Henry Thorne, a young man of excellent 
family and fine mental promise, had entered his office 
as a student and assistant in minor matters of practice. 

''Mr. Triston,” said Frank, "I was just asking Harry 
about the new arrivals, whose first appearance with 
your family at church on Sunday attracted the atten- 
tion always aroused by the coming of strangers into 
small communities such as ours. I was not influ- 
enced by idle curiosity, but by a desire to know and 
welcome among us those whose merits are at once 
fully attested by their being honored with your friend- 
ship.” 

"The opportunity to speak on this subject affords 
me pleasure,” replied Mr. Triston. "My absence on 
business has prevented my doing so before to Harry. 


12 


HELENA. 


It is my earnest desire that you and your families, as 
well as others of our church and community, should 
soon become acquainted with my visitors, and add as 
much as possible to their pleasure and enjoyment. 
Mrs. Brannan is a very dear friend, whom I have 
known from her childhood. About six years ago her 
husband. Captain Presley Brannan, mysteriously dis- 
appeared. They were living at Fremont, in this State. 
One day Captain Brannan told his wife that he was 
going to Lawrence to attend a lodge meeting, caution- 
ing her not to be uneasy should he be late in return- 
ing. He went to Lawrence (a town only four miles 
distant), and was known to be at the meeting; but 
was never seen or heard of afterwards. There can 
be no doubt that in some way he lost his life, although 
his body could not be found. His home was pleasant. 
Mrs. Brannan was a noble, loving and devoted wife. 
He could have had no reasons for deserting her. The 
wife mourns him as dead, and all who know the happy 
surroundings of his life agree with her that in some 
unaccountable manner he lost his life. It is now 
nearly six years since his disappearance. At the end 
of seven years, if no trace of him is found, the law 
regards him as dead. He had a four-thousand dollar 
insurance policy on his life, and, as attorney for Mrs. 
Brannan, I will demand payment of same as soon as 
the seven years expire. In the meantime, I have pre- 
vailed upon her to make her home with me. She has 
had a great sorrow, and, notwithstanding the lapse of 
time, still feels its oppressive weight. The daughter, 
by a former marriage. Miss Katie Gardiner, is affected 


THE NEW ARRIVALS. 


13 


by the bereavement only so far as it saddens her 
mother. As she has for several years been absent from 
home attending school, she scarcely knew her step- 
father. 

I understand that she has developed talent to a re- 
markable degree as an elocutionist. I predict that she 
will prove quite an acquisition in that line at your 
young people’s entertainments.” 

'‘Isn’t that glorious news,” exclaimed Harry. “The 
object of our present conference is to arrange a pro- 
gram for a public entertainment. Do you think, Mr. 
Triston, that Miss Gardiner could be prevailed upon to 
take a part?” 

“I have no authority to speak for her in this mat- 
ter,” replied Mr. Triston, “but I think an invitation will 
receive a favorable answer, as I will add any influence 
I may have to that end. Now, my young friends, I 
will take any mail awaiting me, and leave you to com- 
plete your arrangements.” 

Mr. Triston withdrew and the two young men set 
to work to draft a program. When it was outlined in 
rough they agreed that Frank Burton should secure 
the acceptances of those selected for the musical num- 
bers, and Harry Thorne those desired for the speeches 
and recitations. The date of the entertainment was 
fixed for Friday night of the week following. Two 
days later Frank and Harry met to report progress. 
Each had been successful. All invited had consented 
to take part. Harry was able to report that Mr. Robert 
Triston, the eloquent young lawyer, and Miss Katie 
Gardiner, the new arrival, would each give a recitation. 


H 


HELENA. 


Frank had secured an instrumental quartette, a 
soprano and a bass soloist. Full arrangements were 
made for advertising and securing the greatest publi- 
city possible. Notices and invitations were to be sent 
to all within reach. 

“As soon as the programs are printed,” said Harry, 
“I am going to send one to my friend, Harvey St. 
Clair, of Memphis. He often drives over here and I 
should like very much to have him present.” 

“What nonsense, Harry,” exclaimed Frank. “You 
know he never comes here except to get on a spree 
and it is ridiculous to imagine he will come to an en- 
tertainment such as we have arranged for.” 

“That is the very reason I wish to invite him. Who 
knows but some good may come of it? Harvey St. 
Clair has a noble, generous nature, and in many re- 
spects gives promise of a useful and, perhaps, a bril- 
liant career. True, he is a little wild and lately has 
shown a weakness for the flowing bowl; yet I have 
hopes that one possessing so many good traits will see 
the folly of his present course and change before the 
evil habit is too firmly fixed. At least, I will do all 
I can to save him.” 

“All right, my friend,” returned Frank. “Send for 
him by all means. I hope good may come of it; but 
my fear is, that if he comes at all, which I doubt, he 
will be in a condition not to know whether the exer- 
cises are of a temperance or a Bacchanalian character.” 

“If such should be the case, he will miss a rare treat, 
for the new arrival is going to prove a star of the first 
magnitude. St, Clair is^ I know, passionately fond of 


THE NEW ARRIVALS. 


15 

the high order of histrionic talent. If I am not greatly 
mistaken, Miss Katie Gardiner will create a profound 
sensation. I speak knowingly, for I heard her, the 
other evening when I called, recite 'Hamlet’s solil- 
oquy.’ Quite a large company of visitors was present, 
and at Mr. Triston’s request she gave several recita- 
tions. Ah, Frank, there is no doubt, as Mr. Triston 
told us, that she has developed talent to a remarkable 
degree as an elocutionist; and added to this is great 
personal beauty. We need have no fear of our pro- 
gram’s failing to please. The audience will be satis- 
fied to see and hear her alone. You saw her only at a 
distance in church, and was struck with her beauty; 
but when she throws her whole soul into the senti- 
ments of the theme, her dark, liquid brown eyes speak 
volumes, and she seems the personification of grace 
and loveliness. I could not but think of the poet’s 
paragon, 

‘ To whom the better elements 
And kindly stars have given 
A form so fair that, like the air, 

’Tis less of earth than heaven.* 

I am not in love, Frank. My admiration, though 
real, is professional. We are in the show business, and 
I am delighted that we shall be the first to introduce 
to the public here so great an attraction. But I will 
say no more, you will soon have opportunity to judge 
for yourself.” 


i6 


HELENA. 


CHAPTER II. 

THE TIMID LOVER. 

How long must I conceal 

What yet my heart could wish were known ? 

How long the truest passion feel, 

And yet that passion fear to own ?” 

— Cortwrii^ht, 

Hard is the. fate of him who loves, 

Yet dares not tell his trembling pain.” 

— Thomson. 

In the small town of Memphis, situated a few miles 
south of Corinth, in a plain room furnished as a bache- 
lor’s apartment, we introduce to the reader a young 
man who is to figure prominently in the pages of this 
narrative. He is of striking personal appearance — 
nearly six feet in height and finely proportioned. He 
wears full beard and mustache; has regular features 
and deep blue eyes. His face and bearing indicate 
honesty and sincerity; yet a certain air of indecision 
about him suggests that he might be influenced by 
surroundings to either a noble or ignoble life. If 
ignoble, it would be only to his own hurt and not to 
that of others. There are natures, warm, generous 
and just toward all about them; incapable of doing a 
wrong or injustice to a fellow-being, yet weak in the 
active resources for self-advancement, utterly failing in 


THE TIMID LOVER. 


17 


the accomplishment of the great purposes of life, un- 
less aided and spurred on by congenial associations. 
Such was the character of Harvey St. Clair. 

On the table beside him is a bottle of wine, and a 
wine glass half full. He drowsily reclines in an easy 
chair, as he smokes his Turkish pipe. A knock at his 
door arouses him, and, as it opens, he exclaims, “My 
dear Jack, how glad I am to see you! I was wishing 
for company to keep me awake and to share my Bor- 
deaux. Come, have a glass, and sit down for a good 
long talk.^' 

“Thanks, I will take the seat, but not the wine. I 
never indulge,^’ replied the visitor, as he dropped into 
a chair by the side of the table. 

“True,” responded St. Clair, “for the moment, I for- 
got your weakness in abstaining from the cup that 
cheers.” 

“The Lord knows I am weak enough, but my weak- 
ness in that direction is perhaps the only strength of 
which I am possessed. At any rate, I will avoid em- 
bracing an enemy by which I might be shorn of such 
power as I have,” said the young man, as he wearily 
placed his elbow on the table and rested his head on 
his hand. 

“Well, Jack, have your own way. I do not desire 
to change your views. As for myself, I have no notion 
of renouncing all the good things of this life. One 
thing certain, I can commend your fortitude in refus- 
ing a drink now, for any one so obviously sad and 
melancholy as you are must be strongly tempted to 
find surcease gf §orrQW in any way pgssible. But I 


i8 


HELENA. 


know your trouble. Ah, Jack, love is a troublesome 
malady. You have to come to your old friend for an- 
other confidential chat; and now, though my wine is 
refused, I hope my words may give you comfort. Since 
you confided to me the story of what you term a hope- 
less love, I have been making observations, and I am 
strongly inclined to believe that your bashfulness is 
the principal obstacle in your way.” 

“Do not mock me with such words. I know that 
it is impossible to win her. It is absurd for me to even 
dream of such a thing, and yet I cannot overcome my 
passion. You know well the disparity in our social 
stations.” 

“Let me analyze the disparity,” answered Mr. St. 
Clair, with a quiet smile, and a twinkle in his bright 
blue eyes. “In the first place. Jack, you are not overly 
handsome, although very well in your way, while the 
object of your adoration is very beautiful. In the sec- 
ond place, you are about as far from being a Roths- 
child as it is possible to be, while she is very rich. Only 
two items of disparity — one in personal appearance 
and one in dollars and cents. I admit these little items 
place you at a disadvantage, but the first one she may 
regard as immaterial, in view of your recognized men- 
tal and moral qualities; the second your industry and 
ability may, in time, remove; or she may consider it 
overbalanced by the wealth of your love and devotion. 
‘Faint heart ne’er won fair lady.’ Have you in any 
way made known to the lady the interest she has 
aroused in your affections?” 

“No, no. The presumption would be too great. I 


THE TIMID LOVER. 


19 


shall never by word or look betray the consuming pas- 
sion that has taken possession of me. Her bright eyes 
aroused it the first time I saw her. I know she regards 
me only as a chance acquaintance of a few months, 
and if I were to disclose my feelings, she would de- 
pise me, and I should only be more miserable than I 
am now. No, Harvey, I shall lock the secret in my 
heart. I thank you for your kind words. It is some 
relief to unburden my misery to a sympathizing friend; 
but you and I alone are to know.’' 

At this moment footsteps were heard at the door and 
a boy’s voice called out: 

“Mr. St. Clair, here is a letter for you.” 

Opening the door, St. Clair received from the hands 
of the boy a letter which had just been brought from 
the post office. Excusing himself to his friend, he 
sat down to peruse it, and while he is thus engaged 
the reader can make a closer observation of the melan- 
choly lover. 

John Gage was a young man about four and twenty 
years of age, less than a year the senior of St. Clair, 
with whom he had been intimate since childhood. 
His parents had moved to a farm near Memphis when 
he was six years of age. Harvey St. Clair’s parents 
lived on the farm adjoining on the north side. This 
farm did not front on the Corinth turnpike, but was 
reached by a country road running along the north 
line of the Gage homestead. At the ages of six and 
five respectively John and Harvey were one day for- 
mally introduced bv their elder brothers. Fromthis first 
day of their acquaintance an attachment was formed 


20 


HELENA. 


which had continued ever since. As they grew up 
they attended the same district country school, in what 
was known, far and wide, as McKinley’s old log school 
house; later they became pupils in the High School of 
Memphis, occupying seats side by side and keeping 
in the same classes until completion of the full course 
of studies. 

Mr. John Gage at the time we meet him in St. Clair’s 
room was dressed in a plain but neat business suit. 
He was not handsome, but had a pleasant face, one on 
which sincerity was plainly stamped. He was some- 
what under medium height, slender in frame, yet 
healthful and active in appearance and bearing. His 
eyes were light steel gray, hair and complexion border- 
ing on the sandy, yet almost too light and fair to be 
so designated. 

On quitting school both John and Harvey had 
sought employment in their native town. At the pres- 
ent time the former is a clerk, with a very meager sal- 
ary, in the principal dry goods store of the town, and 
the latter is teller in the only bank which the place 
boasted. Neither of them is satisfied with his pros- 
pects, and they contemplate soon striking out in the 
world for a wider field. About six months previous to 
the time of the conversation just narrated. Miss Lena 
Barnard had come on a visit to her uncle, who lived 
on what was known as Meadow Farm, situated about 
midway between Memphis and Corinth. This home 
place of Mr. Joseph Barnard was the most elegant and 
valuable in the entire county. Mr. Barnard was not 


THE TIMID LOVER. 


21 


only wealthy, but honored and respected for his high 
character as a citizen and neighbor. 

On the opposite side of the turnpike from Meadow 
Farm, a few hundred yards to the east, was located 
the small farm on which John Gage’s parents and 
sisters still lived. A friendly intercourse had always ex- 
isted between the two families, notwithstanding their 
widely different financial standing. Miss Lena Bar- 
nard, after graduating, had accepted an urgent invi- 
tation from her uncle to take a long rest in the coun- 
try. She soon became acquainted with the sisters 
of John Gage, one of whom was about her own age. 
As John spent his Sundays and, occasionally, week- 
day evenings at his father’s home, and as the young 
ladies sometimes visited the store where he was em- 
ployed, on shopping expeditions, he was thrown much 
in the society of Miss Barnard, with the result dis- 
closed to the confidential ear of St. Clair. Lena’s 
father, Mr. Samuel Barnard, was reputed to be far 
more wealthy than his brother Joseph. He was a 
prosperous wholesale merchant in the city of Vernon 
in an adjoining State, only about two hundred miles 
distant. 

“Here is a corker, if I may use inelegant but ex- 
pressive slang,” exclaimed St. Clair, as he finished 
reading the letter. “The idea of such a message to 
me from Harry Thorne — ha, ha, ha; wants me to at- 
tend a temperance meeting. How absurd!” 

“What does he say?” asked Gage. “Harry Thorne 
is not usually absurd about anything. The absurdity 
to you is doubtless on account of the temperance 


12 


HELENA. 


feature mentioned. If the invitation had been to a 
wine supper, how different would have been your ex- 
clamation!” 

''Here is the letter; read it for yourself,” and St. 
Clair handed it to his friend, who read as follows : 

"Dear Friend Harvey, — The young people of our 
place have formed a temperance band, and, in order 
to advertise the movement, a literary and musical en- 
tertainment will be given on next Friday evening in 
the town hall. A new arrival in Corinth, Miss Katie 
Gardiner, said to be a very fine elocutionist, will give 
a recitation; and our friend, Robert Triston, will also 
recite; instrumental and vocal music by our best talent 
will be interspersed. You may think it strange that I 
invite you to come so far to an entertainment of this 
character, but you sometimes come for a frolic; now, 
come this time to please me. With your wine-bibbing 
ideas you may think that we teetotalers cannot have 
an enjoyable evening; but we can. You owe me a 
visit, and I will look for you. Sincerely your friend, 

"Harry Thorne.” 

"Nothing ridiculous about that letter,” said Gage, as 
he laid it on the table. 

"Will you go with me, if I conclude to make a mar- 
tyr of myself to please Harry?” 

"Let me see. No; I cannot go on next Friday 
night. My sister and Miss Barnard have laid claim 
on me as escort to a spelling bee at McKinley’s old 
log schoolhouse. But I think you ought to go.” 


THE TIMID LOVER. 


23 


“Well, I will think about it. Perhaps if I provide 
a good supply of the ardent to cheer me on the way 
back, I might be able to stand it. By the way, Jack, 
have you heard of a strange character, calling him- 
self the Almanac Fortune-teller, who has recently lo- 
cated in the old cabin on the high cliff, just this side 
of Corinth?” 

“Yes; sister Lizzie and Miss Barnard were speaking 
of him yesterday. Like all girls, they would like the 
fun of having their fortunes told ; but as it is such a se- 
cluded and desolate place, and he may be a madman, 
I did not encourage their making the trip.” 

“I suggest that we go alone first, and if it promises 
well we can then arrange to take the ladies.” 

“Very well; I will go with you some evening soon. 
Now, I must be off. Throw that bottle away, Harvey. 
I don’t want my best friend to go to the dogs. Al- 
though you won’t believe it, the habit is getting too 
strong a hold on you, my dear fellow. Good-bye.” 

“Good-bye, Jack. Do not be uneasy. I can drink 
or let it alone, as I choose.” 

Mr. Gage shook his head and passed out of the 
room. 

St. Clair poured out a glass full of wine, drank 
it down; refilled and lighted his pipe, and, lounging 
back in his chair, fell into a musing mood, as he 
watched the curling smoke ascend. 

“John Gage is a royally good fellow,” he ruminated; 
“too squeamish and fanatical about a little good 
cheer; but he is a true friend — pure gold, through 
and through. I must in some way help him in that 


24 


HELENA. 


love affair. I am half persuaded that the girl has 
discovered Jack’s worth, and really loves him. If I 
can only convince him that he has a chance, he will 
overcome his scruples and propose. Ah! an idea 
occurs to me: The Fortune-teller might serve a good 
turn in this matter. I will see him on my way to 
Corinth and try to arrange a plan to both surprise and 
delight my friend.” 


THE ENTERTAINMENT. 


^5 


CHAPTER III. 

THE ENTERTAINMENT. 

“Would ye serve your home, your God, your race, 

And share in the rewards of infinite grace ? 

Would ye care to have a part in the endless love 
Of God and angels in the realms above ? 

Then shun the cup, and turn from the brink 
Where others fall through the curse of drink.” 

— Annoy mous. 

On Friday afternoon St. Clair procured a horse and 
buggy and set out for Corinth. He made an early 
start in order to have ample time to carry out his pro- 
ject of visiting the Fortune-teller. Only a short dis- 
tance from Corinth, and near to the road over which 
St. Clair was passing, rose a high cliff. On the sum- 
mit, hidden from view by trees and tangled under- 
growth, was a rude log house. The place had been 
untenanted for some time, and only within a month 
had rumor announced an occupant in the person of a 
singular character, who was designated as the Al- 
manac Fortune-teller by those who had visited the 
place. The object of one of his profession in select- 
ing such a location could not be surmised. The in- 
quisitive received no satisfaction. He was willing to 
tell the fortunes of others, but would tell noting con- 


26 


HELENA, 


cerning himself. Following the road which gradually- 
ascended to the top of the elevation, St. Clair reached 
the door of the cabin, which was promptly opened in 
answer to his knock. He was startled by the mar- 
velously strange appearance of both the apartment 
and its occupant; but, as the reader will have a full 
description of what he saw, later on, suffice it now to 
record that the visitor, after about half an hour’s con- 
versation with the inmate, emerged from the house 
with a well satisfied smile on his face. Evidently, 
whatever scheme he had in view promised success, so 
far as the Fortune-teller was concerned. Descending 
to the main road, he soon entered the town of Corinth 
and sought out his friend, Harry Thorne. He was 
heartily welcomed at Mr. Thorne’s home. After sup- 
per they went together to the large hall, where the 
entertainment was to be given. Mr. Thorne, being 
master of ceremonies for ,the evening, provided his 
friend with a desirable seat and repaired to the plat- 
form. 

St. Clair soon discovered that the audience room 
would be filled to its utmost capacity. The enthusi- 
asm of Harry Thorne and Frank Burton had caused 
the occasion to be generally talked about. All the 
church congregations, socal clubs and the public in 
general had been invited and urged to attend, and by 
the time the first number on the program was an- 
nounced not only every seat but every foot of stand- 
ing room was occupied. 

“Strange,” mused St. Clair to himself, “what en- 
thusiasm Harry and his associates have about their 


THE ENTERTAINMENT. 


27 


temperance hobby. I know I shall be bored to death, 
but I can afford to be a martyr to temperance fanatic- 
ism for a little while, in view of the bottle of fine old 
Bourbon, stowed away under my buggy seat, to solace 
myself with on the ride home.’' 

With complacent resignation he listened to the 
opening instrumental quartette, then to the brief ad- 
dress of Rev. Dr. Colyar and a vocal solo; and was 
only aroused to a livelier interest when Robert Tris- 
ton recited the following selection: 

“an allegory. 

“In a dream I saw a beautiful home, rich and ele- 
gant in all its adornments within and without. It 
nestled in the midst of a lovely garden, all luxuriant in 
its wealth of fruit and flowers. In the bright sun- 
light, pebbled walks gleamed and glistened like gems, 
as in tasteful curves they led here and there to sylvan 
bowers. The dwelling and its surroundings made a 
scene of rare taste and beauty. I saw that the heart 
of love had planned and the hand of affection had 
reared it. The trees, the plants, the flowers, the walks, 
in their wonderful arrangement and exquisite har- 
mony, exhausted all power to beautify further, and ap- 
peared like a cluster of jewels around the cozy dwel- 
ling. Entranced, I gazed upon the surpassing loveli- 
ness. Surely, I thought, this is a fairy’s home. I drew 
near and looked within. Ah, could it be? This the 
home of mortals! Yes, seated there by the cheerful 
hearth was a man of noble form and kindly face, and a 
woman of grace and beauty, and playing around them 


28 


HELENA. 


a bright-eyed, beautiful child. They were talking of 
their happy home. Their eyes fondly rested upon each 
other, and love beamed from every lineament of their 
faces as they talked together and tenderly caressed the 
lovely pledge of their plighted faith. I heard them 
say, 'Can any of earth be so happy as we?’ And the 
gentle zephyrs murmuring through the luxuriant foli- 
age at the open window seemed to whisper, 'None 
more happy; none more happy.’ 

"Then in my dream I saw an angel standing by me. 
I asked him, 'Has heaven any brighter scenes than 
this?’ And he said, 'Come and see.’ Away to the vast 
empyreal sphere we soared, onward and onward, up- 
ward and upward toward the celestial gate. The angel 
bore me on with the speed of light. I learned that 
heaven was far away from earth. Ere we reached the 
sunny slope of the heavenly paradise a year and more 
had passed. We stood within the shadow of the sap- 
phire walls, and I knocked at the gate of pearl; but 
quick the angel grasped my hand and bore me swift 
away. 'Thou art mortal and must not enter there.’ 
he said. 'I brought thee here that thou mightst have 
but a single glimpse of celestial life.’ Though far away 
and fast receding, the light streaming out through the 
opening gate dazzled and blinded with its ineffable 
brightness; yet I saw unutterable things, and felt in 
its fullness that 'eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor 
hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive of 
heaven’s loveliness.’ And the angel said to me, 'All 
this beauty fades not, and the brightness dims not — it 
is the same that 'was, and is, and ever shall be, the 


THE ENTERTAINMENT. 


29 


same yesterday, to-day, and forever.’ Now we jour- 
ney to earth, to the spot whence we came, and thou 
shalt learn that earth changes, though heaven does 
not.’ 

“On earth I stood again, just as the evening shades 
were falling. But surely, I thought, this is not the 
spot whence I journeyed, yet the angel 1 said it was, 
ere he vanished. The walks now were grass-grown 
and unswept; the garden rank with weeds; the plants 
and flowers faded and withering; the trees broken and 
dying, and the once elegant dwelling, uncared for, de- 
caying and crumbling away. 

“As the shadows of night deepened around me I 
seemed to hear voices of awful solemnity. The winds 
sadly sighed through the branches of the neighboring 
forest, and wafted to my ears the mournful hoot of the 
owl; and in the distance I could hear the fierce howl of 
the prowling wolf. Again I stood by the same win- 
dow. It was uncurtained now, and the creeping vine 
with its luxuriant foliage was gone. I looked within. 
Oh, God, the change! The walls and floors were bare; 
the hearth cold and cheerless; but the occupants the 
same, yet oh, how different! The man’s once noble 
form was now bowed and broken, and the kindly face 
bleared and bloated. The wife’s once graceful form 
was now bent and faltering. Deep furrows of woe now 
marked where the lines of beauty had traced. And the 
child was ragged and gaunt, with face unwashed and 
hair uncombed. I gazed upon this awful change in 
speechless dismay. Hark! the fierce growl of the 
wolf sounded louder and nearer — again nearer — nearer 


30 


HELENA. 


still. Midnight of impenetrable darkness without — a 
frail flickering taper making light and shadow within. 
Louder and louder grew the howl of the wolf; it 
seemed circling round and round the dwelling, draw- 
ing nearer and nearer and nearer. At times its foot- 
steps on the leaves and twigs were distinctly heard. 
Then I saw that the inmates heard the approach of 
the ravenous beast. The man's haggard, bloated face 
worked convulsively, and the bloodshot eyes gleamed 
with the light of an awful frenzy. The woman 
crouched in mortal agony at the door, a nameless de- 
spair on her face, and holding tightly to her breast the 
now frightened, horrified child. The man was gazing 
toward the door. I saw that the lock and latch were 
broken. A low growl and the stealthy tread of the 
wolf were heard at the door. The man was powerless 
to move; an awful tremor shook his frame and an un- 
earthly light burned in his eyes. Slowly the door was 
pushed open and the long, gaunt form of the wolf en- 
tered. It advanced with grinning teeth and glaring 
eyes. As it crouched for the fatal spring he uttered a 
cry of horror — then the wife sprang toward him with 
clasped hands and imploring look. In his awful frenzy 
he struck her a deadly blow. I saw her lying there with 
the look of unspeakable agony on her face. Then he, 
stooping, seized his child and hurled it into the open 
jaws of the ravenous beast, and I heard the crunching 
out of the young life. Then the yell of a maniac 
pierced my very soul as the man bounded by me 
through the window and disappeared in the darkness 
of an impenetrable and eternal night. 


THE ENTERTAINMENT. 


31 


awoke and knew that this was the work of rum.” 

The effect produced by the recitation was startling. 
As the young orator, with vivid, dramatic intonation of 
voice and appropriate gesture described the wolf 
prowling round and round the house and entering the 
door of the doomed home, the auditors seemed to ac- 
tually see the ferocious beast; and when the cry of the 
madman rang out like a shriek of a lost soul, the ef- 
fect was thrilling beyond description. The audience 
seemed terror-stricken. All over the hall could be 
heard the deep-drawn breaths of frightened suspense, 
and St. Clair felt the cold sensation of an indefinable 
fear creeping at the roots of his hair. 

“Why, Dante’s Inferno,” he muttered to himself, 
“scarcely furnishes a more dreadful picture. And how 
much is told in so short a story — property, home, love, 
noble manhood, lovely womanhood, innocent child- 
hood, all ruined by drink — and sadder still, the immor- 
tal soul plunged into remediless darkness. Ah, I begin 
to feel that the enthusiasm, or fanaticism, as I have 
called it, of Harry Thorne has more basis than I have 
been wont to recognize.” 

The painful silence was gently broken by soft, sweet 
strains of music from the instrumental quartet. 

As the music ceased, all eyes were fixed on the plat- 
form, for the program now announced “A Recitation 
by Miss Katie Gardiner.” Special curiosity was 
aroused, both to see and to hear the “new arrival.’* 
The large attendance was in great part due to the 
rumors quietly circulated by Mr. Thorne and his asso- 
ciates in the band that Miss Gardiner \vas not only 


32 


HELENA. 


beautiful in person, but also an accomplished elocu- 
tionist. When invited to take a number on the pro- 
gram, she had expressed a willingness to do so, if she 
could find a selection suitable for such an occasion, 
and Harry Thorne had requested, as a special compli- 
ment to him, that she recite a simple little poem of his 
own composition which he had dedicated to the band. 

Miss Gardiner promptly and gracefully made her 
appearance on the platform. At the first glance un- 
usual interest manifested itself in the face of St. Clair. 
His gaze betokened astonishment and admiration. She 
seemed to his ardent, beauty-loving nature a revelation 
of grace and loveliness. Her personal presence was* 
striking. She was medium in height, with dark-brown 
hair, brilliant brown eyes, fair complexion and rosy 
cheeks. There was an indescribable expression of 
intellectuality and power in her face and manner. Her 
sweet smile as she bowed to the audience captivated 
every beholder. 

“She is marvelously beautiful,” thought St. Clair. 
In a voice of rich and rare compass, clear as a bell, and 
with every tone melodious she recited the following 
poem: 


THE CURSE OF DRINK. 

‘‘Would ye shrink from the vile haunts of disgrace 
And see not the agony in friends’ loving face ? 
Would ye turn from the dens of infamy and woe 
And mingle not with the degraded and low? 
Then shun the cup, and turn from the brink 
Where others fall through the curse of drink. 


THE ENTERTAINMENT. 


33 


Would ye seek honest face aud feature, 

And most admired be by fellow creature ? 

Would ye be lithe of limb, bright of eye. 

And fearless stand before great and high? 

Then shun the cup, and turn from the brink 
Where others fall through the curse of drink. 

Would ye be pure, and free and great. 

Crowned with honor’s high estate? 

Would ye strive to other’s burdens bear. 

And rescue them from the tempter’s snare? 

Then shun the cup, and turn from the brink 
Where others fall through the curse of drink. 

Would ye save from deep and dark despair 
A mother’s heart, and her sweetest blessings share? 

Would ye hear a father’s noblest praise 
Ever ringing to your latest days? 

Then shun the cup, and turn from the brink 
Where others fall through the curse of drink. 

Would ye serve your home, your God, your race. 
And share in the rewards of infinite grace ? 

Would ye care to have a part in the endless love 
Of God and angels in the realms above? 

Then shun the cup, and turn from the brink 
Where others fall through the curse of drink. 

Would ye wish a mansion in the city of gold. 

Prepared by the Master with grandeur untold ? 

Would ye rest ’neath the shade of life’s tree, 

Clothed in the robes of immortality ? 

Then shun the cup, and turn from the brink 
Where Other? faU through the eur3e of drink, 


34 


HELENA. 


Would ye wish for a kingly jewel to wear, 

A scepter to wield, a crown to bear ? 

Would ye dwell in the realms bright and fair, 

Of which we’re told, No drunkard is there?” 

Then shun the cup, and turn from the brink 
Where others fall through the curse of drink. 

The piece afforded very little scope for elocutionary 
talent, yet the perfect interpretation given to every line 
and the complete change of emphasis and expression 
in each of the seven repetitions of the refrain, made it 
clear that she possessed great power as a reader. 

The earnest pleading words of the poem, when in- 
terpreted with such sweet and persuasive force, was 
well fitted to follow the intensely dramatic deliverance 
of the eloquent young lawyer. It softened the agitated 
feelings, yet emphasized the effect. Recognizing this, 
she bowed her acknowledgments for the hearty en- 
core and declined to make a second appearance. 


A MOONLIGHT RIDE. 


35 


CHAPTER IV. 

A MOONLIGHT RIDE. 

Some positive, persisting fools we know, 

Who if once wrong, will needs be always so; 
But you with pleasure own your errors past. 

And make each day a critique on the last.” 

— Pope. 


^Tt is the unexpected that always happens,” mused 
St. Clair, as he rode homeward that night. ‘T thought 
I should be bored to death, yet I never was more in- 
terested in my life. Yes, the unexpected, above all 
things, has happened to-night. I have seen my ideal. 
She answers to every dream and fancy of my soul. 
Although she is unknown to me, still I feel that her 
image is indelibly stamped upon my heart. I may 
never win a smile of welcome from her peerless face, yet 
I know her image will abide with me always. I felt the 
arrow pierce. Strange! Strange! I came against my 
will. It seemed folly to respond to Harry’s invitation, 
and I know not why I came. Who knows what is to 
happen? Ah, who knows? Another may win the 
heart I covet — for aught I know may already hold that 
heart enthralled, yet mine is hers for all time. What 
is this mysterious, subtle influence that unbidden 


3^ 


HELENA. 


steals over the heart? I feel its power and recognize 
that it is irresistible.’^ 

It was a beautiful moonlight night, and the spirited 
horse was moving rapidly along the smooth turnpike. 
St. Clair, wrapped in his troubled thoughts, was un- 
conscious of time until aroused by the barking of a 
dog. He looked up and observed that he was passing 
the Barnard residence. 

“Half way home,” he said. Then suddenly the 
thought flashed on his mind of the solace he had pro- 
vided for his return ride. 

“Curse the bottle,” he muttered, “I hear now the 
sweet, pleading tones of that matchless voice, saying, 

' Would ye be pure, and free and great 

Crowned with honors high estate ? . . . 

Then shun the cup, and turn from the brink 
Where others fall through the curse of drink.* 

While I remember that inspired face, and no time can 
efface it, I will shun the cup as I would an adder’s 
sting.” 

Reaching under the seat he pulled out the bottle of 
old Bourbon, and half rising he hurled it on the rocks 
at the side of the road. The crash startled the horse 
and caused it to spring forward, jerking the lines 
over the dash-board. St. Clair, in moving forward to 
recover the lines, lost his balance, and as the horse 
swerved to one side, he was thrown violently to the 
ground. The now thoroughly fr ghtened horse dashed 
furiously along the pike. 

A vehicle which had come into the pike about a 


A MOONLIGHT RIDE. 


37 


mile ahead was coming in the direction to meet the 
runaway. The occupants were John Gage, his sister 
and Lena Barnard, returning from the spelling bee. 
Hearing the noise of the approaching steed, they 
hastily turned their carriage to one side, and the run- 
away flew by them. 

“Great heavens!” exclaimed John Gage, “that was 
St. Clair’s horse, and the buggy is empty. He must 
have been thrown out, and perhaps is killed.” 

While saying this he was laying whip to his horse, 
urging him to full speed, with the desire to render 
earliest assistance possible in case of accident to his 
friend. 

When about three-quarters of a mile had been . 
traversed, they saw an object lying by the roadside, 
which in the bright moonlight was easily recognized 
at some distance as the form of a man. In a moment 
John Gage was kneeling at the side of his friend. 

“He is unconscious, but not dead. He may not be 
seriously hurt.” 

Both the young ladies had alighted quickly, anxious 
to render any assistance in their power. St. Clair’s 
head was lifted from the hard rocks and placed on a 
cushion seat from the carriage. While Gage was ex- 
amining to see if any bones were broken, a deep- 
drawn breath and groan escaped the lips of St. Clair, 
and a slight movement of his body indicated returning 
consciousness. Slowly he opened his eyes and gazed 
vacantly around. 

“Where am I?” he asked. 

“You are with friends. You were thrown from 


HELENA, 


38 

your buggy, but, I trust, not seriously injured,’^ re- 
plied Gage. 

“Ah! I remember; I was thrown out just as the 
horse started, and I guess I am only stunned. With 
your help, I think I can get up.’’ 

Carefully assisting him to his feet and half carry- 
ing him, Gage placed him in the carriage. As it was 
only a few hundred yards to Mr. Gage’s home they 
soon arrived there, and every attention was given for 
St. Clair’s comfort. 

It was readily discovered that no great injury had 
been sustained, and that even the attendance of a 
physician was unnecessary. A few days’ quiet and 
rest was all that was required to restore him from the 
effects of the contusion and shock produced by the 
fall. 

The following morning there was some commotion 
in the bank at Memphis. 

“Where is Mr. St. Clair?” asked the principal bank 
officer. “It is long past the hour for him to be at his 
desk.” 

“He is not likely to arrive very soon,” replied one 
of the clerks, with a knowing look. 

“You appear to have information, Mr. Clark. Will 
you please explain?” 

“Mr. St. Clair rode over in a buggy yesterday even- 
ing to Corinth to attend a temperance meeting. The 
horse and buggy came back last night; the former 
was badly crippled, and the latter smashed to pieces. 
It appears to have been a runaway, and Mr. St. Clair 
was thrown out. He was found by Mr. John Gage 


A moonlight ride. 39 

and taken to his father’s house, which was near the 
place of accident.” 

“I am sorry to hear this. I hope his injuries are 
not serious,” said the bank officer, kindly. 

'‘Not very, I believe,” replied Mr. Clark, who was 
next in position to Mr. St. Clair, and was willing, if he 
could, to get him out of his way of promotion. "One 
in his condition does not usually get hurt much in a 
fall.” 

"What do you mean?” inquired the banker. "I 
knew that St. Clair took a drink occasionally, but I 
never heard of his indulging to excess. What evidence 
have you of his being in the condition you suggest?” 

"Before starting to Corinth he procured a good- 
sized bottle of whiskey, and those who went out on 
the road, after the horse came in, to see what had be- 
come of his owner, found the empty bottle near the 
spot where the accident occurred. The horse, though 
spirited, is very gentle, and it is presumed that if St. 
Clair had been himself no accident could have hap- 
pened.” 

The empty bottle was not found — only the frag- 
ments of one, the contents of which were soaked in 
the ground, and not in the body of Mr. St. Clair; but 
the exact truth does not always find expression when 
stories are repeated. Whether Mr. Clark stated it as 
he heard it, or put it in this way designedly, is not 
known. At all events, St. Clair must pay the penalty 
of suspicion for having the bottle with him. Gage 
had sent word to the bank at an early hour, explain- 
ing the absence of St. Clair, but Mr. Clark did not 


40 


Helena. 


mention this message, as he had previously heard of 
the accident, and preferred to give his own version. 

At the time the banker was receiving the informa- 
tion, or rather misinformation, just recorded, St. Clair 
was sitting in an easy chair in the room assigned him 
at Mr. Gage’s house. He was stiff and sore, with a 
few slight bruises; otherwise, none the worse for the 
mishap of the previous night. John Gage had gone 
at an early hour to his place of employment, and his 
friend, for a time, was left to the company of his own 
thoughts. 

“Here is a pretty howdy do!” he soliloquized. “A 
few hours ago I was fancy free ; now brown eyes haunt 
me continually. Yesterday I laughed at Harry 
Thorne’s temperance notions; to-day, I am a sworn 
teetotaler. Perhaps the best act of my life was that of 
dashing the bottle to pieces on the ground, yet its de- 
struction came near causing my own. Surely, it was 
commendable to attend a temperance meeting, but it 
has resulted in a heart wound from which I may never 
recover. Certainly, it was praiseworthy to throw 
away the bottle, but it has occasioned much damage 
to my horse and buggy, and many aches and pains 
to my body. Ah, well! I ajn content to accept the re- 
sults.” 

His soliloquy was interrupted by the arrival of vis- 
itors. Miss Barnard came across to inquire about the 
patient, and St. Clair’s brother James, to whom word 
of the accident had been sent, arrived at the same 
time. They were delighted to find that the mishap 
had resulted in so little harm. 


A MOONLIGHT RIDE. 


4t 

Lizzie Gage, who came into the room with the vis- 
itors, had known St. Clair since childhood. Seeing 
that the consequences of the accident were trivial, she 
began to tease him about the occurrence. 

“I was so frightened last night,” she said, “that I 
did not think to smell your breath, Harvey; but any 
one can see how it happened. Don’t you think, Lena, 
that it is a great shame for a young man to attend a 
temperance meeting and go home in such a condi- 
tion? If I were you, James, I wouldn’t own such a 
brother.” 

“Oh, it is shocking!” cried Lena. 

“Very disgraceful, indeed!” said James; “but you 
know there is always one black sheep in every flock.” 

Miss Gage did not dream that her words were in 
keeping with the guilty intentions of the homeward 
ride. John Gage never spoke a disparaging word 
of a friend, and his sister did not know of his anxious 
fears about St. Clair’s tipling habits. She was not 
even aware that he took a drink at all. 

“It does look bad,” replied Harvey, with a faint 
smile, “and I am thankful that my life was spared, giv- 
ing me a chance to repent.” 

“I am not so sure,” she answered with an “Aunty 
Doleful” look on her face, “that such a mercy will be 
granted you. People who are thrown violently head 
foremost on the rocks nearly always die; and if they 
don’t die their brain is affected. When they look out 
of their eyes as you do now, it is almost sure to end 
in permanent imbecility. Ah, me! there was Sam 
Dodge who fell out of the wagon when he was drunk; 


4 ^ 


IIELENA. 


he died the next day; and there was old Pat. Lacey, 
who staggered off the bridge; he has been in the 
asylum ever since. It is a great mercy, in your sad 
plight, that you have me at hand to cheer you up a 
little.” 

All laughed heartily, not so much at the words as 
at the counterfeit expression of seriousness, and the 
comically doleful tone in which they were uttered. 

“I see you are all of one mind as to the cause of 
the accident, so I will make a full confession. I was 
intoxicated, and the bewildered condition of my mind 
brought about what would not have otherwise oc- 
curred.” 

St. Clair uttered these words in a serious tone, 
which caused his friends to look at each other in 
amazement. 

“But do not censure me too severely,” he con- 
tinued, changing his voice to a light, jesting tone, 
“until you have heard the whole of my confession. 
My sad condition was the result of an intoxication 
from love, and not from liquor. Not a drop of any 
kind of spirits had passed by lips, but the spirit of 
love had passed into my heart, and, while so pos- 
sessed, I was reckless enough to frighten my horse 
and drop the lines.’ 

“It is even worse than I supposed,” said Lizzie, with 
a smile. “That kind of intoxication is likely to have 
permanent effects.” 

“Oh, I am deeply interested now,” said Lena. 
“Your confession has only just begun. Tell us all 
about the ‘bewitching bright eyes and love at first 


A MOONLIGHT RIDE. 


43 


sight’ that had such a wonderful effect upon one we 
have heretofore regarded as quite matter-of-fact and 
unimpressible.” 

St. Clair, thus urged, gave a full account of the en- 
tertainment at Corinth. He spoke of Robert Tris- 
ton’s fine effort, and also in high praise of the beauty 
and accomplishments of Miss Gardiner, as displayed 
in the part she had taken. He was careful, however, 
to create the impression in the minds of his hearers 
that he was simply gratified and delighted to have 
had the privilege of hearing an elocutionist of rare 
talent. His reference to the intoxication from love 
they understood as a pleasantry, as he intended they 
should. 

“You must arrange soon to take Lizzie and me on 
a trip to Corinth, and introduce us to this rare divinity 
of yours,” said Miss Barnard. 

“It would afford me great pleasure to do so, but, 
unfortunately, I was not introduced myself. I left 
immediately at the close of the exercises, and perhaps 
I may never have the honor of worshipping this di- 
vinity, except at a distance,” replied St. Clair, while 
in his heart he resolved that nothing should prevent 
his obtaining an introduction at the earliest day pos- 
sible. 


44 


HELENA 


CHAPTER V. 

THE CABIN ON THE CLIFF. 

‘‘Thers are ten thousand tones and signs, 

We hear and see, but none defines — 

Involuntary sparks of thought, 

Which strike from out the heart o’er wrought, 

And form a strange intelligence, 

Alike mysterious and intense — 

Which link the burning chain that binds. 

Without their will, young hearts and minds ; 
Conveying as the electric wire. 

We know not how, the absorbing fire.” 

— Byron, 

When Lena Barnard arose to leave, Miss Gage 
accompanied her to the door, leaving James St. Clair 
m the room alone with his brother. 

James, I wish you to aid me in a scheme I have 
planned concerning our friend, John Gage. I do not 
know what the outcome will be, but it will afford 
amusement if nothing else. Your part in the scheme 
will consist in making an engagement to take Miss 
Gage to spend Monday evening with Miss Barnard. 
You can ask one of your friends to call there. I sug- 
gest Herman Clark, as he is well acquainted at Bar- 
nard’s, and will be sure to go if you ask him, Soon 


THE CABIN ON THE CLIFF. 


45 


after assembling at the house, propose a visit to the 
fortune-teller. The girls are very anxious to go, and 
will be delighted to accept the invitation. Now, 
James, do not mention this matter to any one, but do 
just as I indicate. Let it appear to your companion 
and both the ladies that the idea of visiting the for- 
tune-teller only occurred to you at the moment you 
suggest it. To everybody except ourselves the oc- 
currences of Monday evening must appear purely ac- 
cidental. Now go and make the engagement for 
yourself and friend, and when you return I will ex- 
plain fully and satisfy all your curiosity as to the ob- 
ject in view.” 

“All right, brother; I will obey instructions to the 
letter, and strive very hard to prevent failure on my 
part of the scheme.” 

Early in the evening of the Monday following 
James St. Clair appeared in pursuance of his appoint- 
ment with the young ladies. John Gage, who had 
just reached home from the store, proposed to ac- 
company them, but was informed by his sister that 
Lena had an engagement that evening with another 
young gentleman. 

“May I inquire,” said John, with a disappointed 
look, “who the favored one is?” 

“He is Mr. Herman Clark, of whom I think you 
have not a very favorable opinion.” 

“I confess I do not like him. There is something 
about him which arouses distrust in my mind. Yet 
I do not wish to speak harm of him. He is hand- 
some and quite popular. He and St. Clair are em,” 


46 


HELENA. 


ployed in the same bank, but I have never asked 
Harvey’s opinion of him. Once I mentioned to you 
that his manner impressed me as insincere. Well, I 
must not be envious of his good fortune in cutting me 
out of Miss Barnard’s company to-night.” 

John Gage was a noble type of manhood. Honest, 
sincere and generous, he was unwilling to wrong an- 
other, even in thought. His intuition, however, was 
very accurate, for his refined, sensitive nature felt the 
slightest vibration of dishonor or insincerity when 
manifested in the tone or manner of those around 
him. He knew that Mr. Clark was well acquainted 
with Miss Barnard and occasionally visited her, but 
jealousy had no part in coloring his estimation of 
Clark’s character. 

On entering the room where St. Clair was seated 
reading a book, he abruptly accosted him with the 
question: 

“What is your impression of the character of Her- 
man Clark? I have just been led to express an un- 
favorable opinion of him to my sister, and I would 
regret doing an injustice to anyone. Tell me your 
judgment of his real character.” 

“I will answer you frankly. Mr. Clark is polite, 
courteous and accomplished, and affects a high regard 
for morality, but I have seen enough in little things 
to incline me to the opinion that he is false at heart and 
treacherous. I have never spoken about him before, 
but as you asked a direct question I have given a 
direct answer. Now let us change the subject. This 
would be a good time for us to visit the fortune-teller. 


THE CABIN ON THE CLIFF. 


47 


You know we agreed some time ago to investigate, 
and if it promised well then to take your sister and 
Miss Barnard.'' 

‘‘Are you well enough for the trip?" 

“Yes, indeed. My three days’ rest has cured all 
aches and pains, and I feel that a little exercise is 
needed." 

“All right, then, we will go at once.” 

In less than an hour the two young men arrived at 
the door of the lonely cabin on the cliff. Entering, 
they found the fortune-teller seated behind a long, nar- 
row table that stretched nearly across the room. Just 
behind him a curtain was suspended from ceiling to 
floor, evidently shutting from view of visitors his 
sleeping apartment. In front of the table was con- 
siderable space, containing a few chairs for the ac- 
commodation of patrons. On the table, to the right 
of the fortune-teller’s seat or throne, was a pedestal on 
which was perched an immense owl. On the table to 
the left was stacked a great pile of almanacs, and, 
besides, the whole of the long table, except imme- 
diately in front of the chair, was covered with alma- 
nacs of every size, color and description. There ap- 
peared to be almanacs from the year one down to 
the present. Some were in manuscript, with strange 
hieroglyphics, made long before the art of printing 
was known. Spread out on the table in front of the 
seer’s seat was a large map or chart of the stars and 
planets. It was full of mysterious looking symbols, 
signs, figures and images painted in various colors. 
On either side of this map sat a stuffed monkey, each 


48 


HELENA. 


holding a brass candlestick in which was burning a 
tallow candle. Behind the center of the table was an 
immense chair, seat or throne, if we may so term it, 
covered with the skins of wild animals. On each arm 
of the chair was the skin of a leopard, with the head, 
life-like in appearance, resting on the extremity of 
each arm. Over one post of the chair was thrown the 
skin of a hyena, over the other that of a panther — the 
life-like head at the top of each post. The back of the 
chair was two feet higher than the head of the occu- 
pant. 

At the time the young men entered, this strange- 
looking seat was occupied by the most grotesque fig- 
ure imaginable. The face not covered by beard was 
colorless, the features sharp, the eyes deep-set and 
piercing. The hair was long, falling below the shoul- 
ders. He was arrayed in a loose-fitting, wine-colored 
gown, fastened with cord and tassel. On his head 
was a cone-shaped red cap a foot in height, from the 
top of which waved a white plume; around the base 
of the cap was a wide blue band. His hands were 
long and bony and almost transparently white. In his 
right hand he held a green-colored rod, curiously 
shaped and elaborately carved. The dim, flickering 
light from the candles, falling on the dark skins of 
the monkeys and their grinning teeth, and on the 
strange occupant of the chair, and throwing shadows 
around the other weird objects in the room, produced 
a startling effect upon the beholder. 

As our two friends approached the table, a quick 
glance of recognition passed between St. Clair and 


THE CABIN ON THE CLIFF. 49 

the fortune-teller which was not observed by Gage. 
St. Clair appeared as much surprised and interested 
in the spectacle as one would in witnessing it for the 
first time. 

“You come to have the mysteries of the future un- 
folded?” asked the fortune-teller. 

“Yes,” replied St. Clair. My friend will first invoke 
the voice of the oracle. We suppose an introduction 
or announcement of our names is unnecessary to one 
who reads all things in the pages of his own occult 
science.” 

“It is,” replied the seer. “I do not ask to know who 
you are or from whence you come. I have only to 
consult the mystic arts of my profession to know the 
origin, present history and future destiny of all who 
seek such revelations.” 

Mr. Gage advanced to the table and was asked to 
state the day, month and year in which he was born. 
The fortune-teller made a careful note of the date and 
then selected a certain almanac from the table. After 
examining it for a moment, he intently studied the 
chart. While he was thus engaged, St. Clair was on 
the alert for any sound of approaching visitors. Sud- 
denly he exclaimed: 

“I hear voices. We do not wish to be seen here. 
Have you any way to hide us from observation until 
the newcomers depart?” 

“Yes,” replied the seer. “Come around the table 
and go behind the curtain. You can seat yourselves 
on my cot, where )^ou will be comfortable, and at the 


50 


HELENA. 


same time free from observation of any who may 
enter here.’’ 

This had all been arranged by St. Clair in his former 
visit. Grasping the arm of his friend, he hurried him 
around the table and behind the curtain. They found 
a comfortable seat on a narrow bed, and while they 
themselves were in the dark, could plainly see, through 
apertures in the curtain, everything in the room. 
Tliey were scarcely ensconsed in their secreted posi- 
tion when James St. Clair, Lizzie Gage, Herman 
Clark and Lena Barnard were admitted into the room. 
At first the ladies were frightened at the gruesome 
appearance of the hut and its occupant, but presently 
accepting the assurances of their escorts that there 
was nothing to fear, they entered into the spirit Df the 
occasion with zest. 

Considerable parley ensued as to who would first 
consult the oracle. Miss Barnard was finally prevailed 
upon to take the lead. 

It is not our purpose to disparage the prophetic ac- 
umen of the wonderful being whose appearance and 
surroundings we have just described, but we must re- 
mind the reader that the former visit of Harvey St. 
Clair was for the special purpose of directing the pro- 
phetic mind of the seer to reveal certain things. 

The fortune-teller handed Miss Barnard a slip of 
paper and requested her to write the exact date of her 
birth. In deference to a well-defined courtesy always 
extended to ladies, he did not ask her to state aloud the 
information desired, as he had done with Mr. Gage. 
On looking at what she had written, he tore up the 


THE CABIN ON THE CLIFF. 


51 


slip and then began to search among his almanacs. 
Selecting one, he consulted it for an instant and then 
turned his eyes upon the map of stars and planets 
before him. Presently he handed to her the green 
colored rod, on the end of which was fixed, by means 
of a socket, a red lead pencil. 

^‘Turn your back to the table,’' he said, ^'and point 
the rod over your right shoulder. I will place the 
point on the star that was in the ascendency at your 
birth. Now while I hold the point down, do not move 
intentionally, but for the space of one minute you must 
think wholly of the one you love best.” 

He took out his watch and held it for sixty seconds, 
while with his other hand he held the point of the rod 
lightly on the chart. Whether he moved this hand or 
not, it was not discernible to those looking on. Cer- 
tain it was, however, that as soon as the minute was 
over and all gathered around to examine the map there 
was plainly marked on it the letters “J. G.” 

“You thought of the one you loved best,” cried 
James St. Clair, “and there are the initials ‘J. G.’ plain 
as print. Who can it be? The ‘J.’ would stand for 
James, but the ‘G’ won’t do for St. Clair.” 

“Oh, it does not m.ean anything,” exclaimed Miss 
Barnard with a blushing face; “it is an accident or a 
trick.” 

“My child,” said the fortune-teller solemnly, “do not 
offend the gods by styling their work as an accident 
or a trick. I discern your horoscope so clearly that I 
can minutely describe the one who is king in your 
heart.” 


52 


HELENA. 


“I do not believe it. You never saw me before and 
can know nothing of my heart’s secrets. Such things 
are not revealed,” exclaimed Miss Barnard. 

“It is true that I never saw you before, yet the 
revelations of your horoscope make all the mysteries 
of your life clear to me. As a test, will you acknowl- 
edge the truth if I accurately describe the one you love 
best?” 

“Yes,” she said boldly, “for if I love any one, neither 
you nor any one else know^s it.” 

“Very well. Listen and I will read the writing of 
the stars. The one you love is now twenty-four years 
of age. He is little under the medium in height, slen- 
der in frame, yet healthful and active in appearance. 
His eyes are of light steel gray color, hair and com- 
plexion approaching the sandy, yet almost too fair to 
be so termed. He is very bashful and diffident, but 
honest, sincere and generous, unwilling to wrong any 
one even in thought. He is not to say handsome, but 
has a pleasant face, one on which honor and purity are 
plainly stamped. Such is the general appearance and 
such is the character of the one on whom your affec- 
tions are placed; else the signs and symbols before me 
speak falsely.” 

Harvey St. Clair felt the cot shake, and looking at 
his friend saw he was greatly agitated. The perspira- 
tion was streaming down his face and anxiety was 
pictured on his countenance as he watched the effect 
of the fortune-teller’s words on Miss Barnard. John 
Gage in his modesty would not have recognized the 
character described, but he knew that the age, height, 


THE CABIN ON THE CLIFF. 


53 


build, color of eyes, hair and complexion did not 
answer for any other young man in all that section. 

As the fortune-teller finished he raised his eyes to 
those of Miss Barnard. She clapped her hands to her 
burning face, wheeled around and rushed toward the 
door. 

“You have answered,” said the seer. At this mo- 
ment a sound of voices was heard at the door, and 
presently there entered Harry Thorne, Miss Katie 
Gardiner, Frank Burton and Miss Rose German. 

“Say, Gage,” whispered Harvey St. Clair, “there 
comes the idol of my heart. How strange that all of 
us should have chosen the same night for a visit here. 
Look, John, at the one with Harry Thorne; isn’t she 
divine?” 

But John had no eyes or thoughts for any one ex- 
cept Miss Barnard, after the confession she had just 
made. The fortune-teller, however, being very close 
to the curtain heard Mr. St. Clair’s words, and quickly 
resolved to give him a surprise when telling the for- 
tune of the “divine” newcomer. 

As Harry Thorne and James St. Clair were old ac- 
quaintances an introduction of all the parties at once 
took place. A general conversation was carried on for 
a few minutes, and then it was decided to continue the 
consultations with the fortune-teller. They had come 
for a frolic, without any belief in the ability of the seer 
to forecast the future. Yet in almost every one there 
is an element of superstition, and the feelings are in- 
variably swayed to some extent even by what is only 
pretended predictions when disclosures are made of 


54 


HELENA* 


things considered unknown to- others. The reader un- 
derstands that the former secret visit of Harvey St. 
Clair enabled the fortune-teller to make the revelations 
he had concerning Miss Barnard. She, however, as 
well as John Gage, was in ignorance of this, and both 
were greatly astonished. Had she known that John 
Gage was present and had witnessed the confession 
made by her confusion the results would have been dis- 
astrous to his hopes. 

At length Miss Gardiner’s turn came. As has been 
mentioned, the fortune-teller had overheard enough 
of St. Clair’s whispered conversation to his companion 
in concealment to understand that he was unknown to 
Miss Gardiner and yet that he had fallen in love with 
her at first sight. Being very quick-witted, he de- 
termined to surprise the one who had planned a sur- 
prise for his friend by accurately describing him to 
Miss Gardiner as the lover who would in time appear 
as her accepted suitor. 

Pursuing his usual course of consulting the almanac 
and then the chart, he proceeded to interpret the mys- 
teries of the horoscope. 

'‘You are just approaching the period of your life,” 
he said, “when the most interesting and important 
events are to transpire. The one you will love and 
the one by whom you will be loved is shortly to cross 
your path. Through the agency of my mysterious art, 
I can describe the one who is to be the hero of your 
heart.” 

The young lady smiled incredulously. A feeling of 
love for any suitor had never dawned upon her, and 


THE CABIN ON THE CLIFF. 55 

she felt sure that any description given would be only 
a fancy, scarcely worth listening to. 

“He is of fine personal appearance,” continued the 
seer, apparently reading from the chart as his fingers 
traced the strange signs and symbols, “nearly six feet 
in height, and well proportioned. He has dark hair, 
fair complexion, wears full beard and mustache, has 
regular features and deep blue eyes. Such is the gen- 
eral appearance of the one with whose destiny your 
fortunes are to be associated. I see signs of trouble 
overshadowing your life, but there appears light be- 
hind the shadows, which augurs a happy conclusion 
after a while.” 

Harvey St. Clair listened in amazement. He real- 
ized that the words gave a general description of 
himself, but, knowing that the young lady had never 
seen him, he could not hope for a confession such as 
occurred in the case of Miss Barnard. 

Miss Gardiner, gayly laughing, exclaimed: 

“Can you not give me his name also, so that I can 
make no mistake? I understand that, before our 
arrival, you gave some initials to Miss Barnard.” 

“It is not impossible,” gravely responded the seer, 
“that the same may be done in your case. Take this 
rod and point it over your shoulder. I will place the 
point on the spot where the signs of the Zodiac indi- 
cate the merging of your destiny with that of the one 
described. The invisible powers will control your in- 
voluntary motions and those of my hand, and per- 
chance the revelation desired may be vouchsafed.” 

She did as directed. The fortune-teller seemed to 


56 


HELENA. 


close his eyes and raised his left hand towards the 
heavens. The point of the rod appeared to move 
slightly for an instant, and then his hand dropped and 
he removed the point from the chart. Eagerly all 
bent down to see what signs, if any, had been traced. 
The letters “H. S. C.” were so distinct that each one 
of the party read them the same way at once. The 
letters S. and C. were written close together, but the 
the three capitals, H. S. C, were quite legible. 

While a lively conversation was being carried on 
over the fortune just foretold, one of the party, Her- 
man Clark, was silent and thoughtful. His eyes 
eagerly sought the face of Miss Gardiner, and the 
interest manifested in his look and manner was very 
marked. He was evidently deeply impressed, and had 
given the closest attention to the words of the fortune- 
teller. This was not noticed by any of his com- 
panions, but Harvey St. Ciair and John Gage, from 
their place of concealment, had full view of everyone 
in the room. They both observed Clark’s looks and 
actions. St. Clair said to himself, ‘T shall have a 
rival,” and Gage said to himself, “I shall be relieved 
of a rival.” 

Harvey St. Clair understood from the description 
given of Miss Gardiner’s coming lover and from the 
initials written on the map that the fortune-teller was 
amusing himself at his expense; but he was not at all 
displeased, and mentally resolved to use every means 
to keep the fact of his presence in the room from being 
found out. If he could bribe the seer, he well knew 
that Gage, the only other person who knew, had very 


THE CABIN ON THE CLIFF. S7 

id 

urgent reasons for keeping their situation a profound 
secret. 

^ One very singular coincidence escaped the notice of 
St. Clair. In fact, it was not observed by anyone 
present. The general description of Miss Gardiner’s 
prospective lover applied as closely to Mr. Clark as it 
did to Mr. St. Clair. No one would ever think of any 
resemblance between these two, yet both had blue 
eyes, were very nearly of same height and weight, 
wore full beard and mustache, and the initials or 
capital letters of their names were the same. 

Clark was startled at the description and initials, 
since he recognized them as fitting himself, but no 
thought of St. Clair or anyone else in reference to the 
matter occurred to him. While the others were mer- 
rily talking over their experiences of the evening, he 
took from his pocket one of his visiting cards, wrote 
on the back of it the exact words used by the fortune- 
teller, and at the close put in brackets the words, “For 
initials see other side.” Approaching Miss Gardiner, 
he smilingly said: 

“You doubtless wish to preserve so important a 
revelation as that to which you have just listened. I 
have written on this card the substance of the seer’s 
words. Take and keep it for future reference.” 

“Thank you, sir,” she replied, taking the card. 
Without looking at it, she pinned it to her dress for 
safe-keeping. 


58 


HELENA. 


CHAPTER VI. 

AN UNEXPECTED RESULT. 

Oh ! colder than the wind that freezes 
Founts, that but now in sunshine play’d, 

Is that congealing pang, which seizes 
The trusting bosom when betrayed.” 

— Moores 

An open foe may prove a curse 

But a pretended friend is worse.” 

— Gay's Fables. 

On the following morning Harvey St. Clair ap- 
peared at the bank. He had sent word that his acci- 
dent would prevent his attention to business for three 
or four days. On entering the bank he was told that 
the president wished to see him in his private office. 
It was with no misgivings that he immediately con- 
fronted the head bank official, but his reception was 
quite formal, and very different from the usual cor- 
diality displayed towards him. 

'T regret to say, Mr. St. Clair,” said the president, 
coldly, “that during your absence certain changes have 
been made in the positions of employees, and that 
another has been assigned to the place you occupied.” 

“This action, sir, seems very sudden. My absence 
was brief and unavoidable.” 


AN UNEXPECTED RESULT. 59 

“In one sense unavoidable, but in another possibly 
not so/' 

“I do not understand you, sir." 

“It is certainly due to you that I make my meaning 
clear, and will speak frankly. Information has come 
to me that your trip to Corinth was simply a drinking 
spree, and that the casualty occurring was but a 
natural result of the condition you were in.” 

“The information, sir, is false. I did not drink a 
drop on that day or night.” 

“It is only natural that you should deny it. But will 
you also deny that you have for some time constantly 
kept a supply of wine in your room for use of yourself 
and visitors; and will you deny that just prior to start- 
ing for Corinth you purchased a bottle of whiskey?” 

“No, sir, I will not deny that, but” — 

“Never mind the ‘buts’ — the matter is settled. In 
lieu of any notice of discharge, the coming month's 
salary will be paid you without requiring any further 
services.” 

“Will you tell me the source of your information?” 

“I think it unnecessary to do so. You have ad- 
mitted the main points of the statements made con- 
cerning you.” 

“Very well. I bid you good-day, sir,” and St. Clair, 
boiling with indignation, strode from the room. As he 
passed through the bank he observed that Herman 
Clark was occupying the position he had formerly 
held. 

On reaching his room St, Clair threw himself into 


6o 


HELENA. 


a chair and gave himself up to thought. He was 
greatly agitated by the sudden and unexpected ex- 
perience through which he had just passed. In a 
short time the agitation subsided, and he was enabled 
to calmly consider all the circumstances of his situa- 
tion. He was not of an unreasonable nature and did 
not bitterly denounce the action of the banker and rail 
against the injustice and meanness of his treatment, 
as most would have done under like provocation. He 
reflected that he was really as guilty of the charge of 
going on a drinking spree as if he had done so. From 
this reflection he realized that his tendencies in the 
tippling habit were stronger than he had imagined. 
Fie had never frequented saloons nor taken a drink 
when going into company. He had simply looked 
upon intoxicants as among the good things of life, to 
be enjoyed when not engaged in business duties. Now 
only three days had intervened since he made the 
brave resolutions just before he was thrown from the 
buggy, yet during that brief time he had constantly 
felt a strong craving for his accustomed daily glass or 
two of stimulants. 

‘‘Harry Thorne is right,” he communed with him- 
self, “it will not do to tamper with the accursed stuff. 
I feel a great longing for a drink now, and yet I 
laughed at John Gage when he intimated that the 
habit was getting too strong a hold on me. I told him 
I could drink or let it alone, as I might choose. Well, 
perhaps I can, but it will require more self-denial than 
I supposed. 


AN UNEXPECTED RESULT. 


6l 


^ Would ye be pure, and free and great. 

Crowned with honor’s high estate? 

Then shun the cup, and turn from the brink. 
Where others fall through the curse of drink.’ 

“Ah! how the sweet, pleading tones of my guardian 
angel ring in my ears. Whether she shall ever be any- 
thing more to me, this at least she shall be — my inspira- 
tion to be ‘pure and free’ from the tempter’s snare. 
I deserve to suffer for my folly, but it is discouraging 
to have to experience the humiliation of dismissal 
after reformation had taken place. Well, I will not try 
to enlighten the bank officials as to the effect produced 
by ‘brown eyes’ and ‘love at first sight,’ but I will let 
my true friend, Harry Thorne, know the sequel of his 
interest in my welfare. I will visit him very soon, and, 
perhaps, I may obtain employment in Corinth, which, 
for one reason at least, would suit me better than any 
other place. 

Arising from his seat he gathered up the wine 
glasses from the table and the decanter and some 
bottles from the closet and placed them in a basket. 
He had just completed rearranging the articles in his 
room when John Gage, with a troubled expression on 
his face, appeared. 

“My dear Harvey,” he exclaimed, “I have come to 
express my sympathy. Having business at the bank 
for my employers, and seeing Mr. Clark at your post, 
I asked about you and was told that you had been 
discharged. How in the world has this happened?” 

“The dismissal was the result of being absent from 
my place, on account of a drinking spree.” 


62 


HELENA. 


“You on a spree! when?” 

“Last Friday night. The accident was caused by 
my inebriated condition, I am informed.” 

“Why, you can easily disprove that charge. I can 
testify that there is not a word of truth on it. To be 
plain with you, my first thought, on seeing your horse 
dash by me that night, was in that line. Your own 
words spoken at the time invitation was received sug- 
gested the thought, but when I reached your side and 
lifted your head from the road I satisfied myself that 
drink had nothing to do with the accident. I will see 
that you are cleared of the accusation.” 

“No, my friend, I will make no defense. I accept 
the result and will seek employment elsewhere. In 
intention I was guilty, although innocent of actual 
transgression. I could only defend myself by resort- 
ing to the arguments always adduced in justification 
of an occasional indulgence. My eyes are open now. 
My only answer to the charge will be made by my 
future conduct.” 

“Give me your hand on that,” exclaimed Gage. “I 
see sincerity and genuine resolution in your counte- 
nance, and I have no fear of your failing to keep a 
good resolution when once it is made. Your room 
already presents the aspects of reformation. What are 
you going to do with those things in the basket?” 

“I will send them to the infirmary, for the use of the 
sick. They may do good there; but here they have 
only done harm.” 

“Were you informed who reported against you at 
the bank?” 


AN UNEXPECTED RESULT. 63 

''No, but I have no doubt of my indebtedness to 
Herman Clark for my discomfiture.” 

"That was the thought in my own mind. He should 
not be allowed to reap a reward from his treachery to 
a friend. I will make known to the bank officials the 
true state of the case.” 

"I prefer that you say nothing. I deserve the 
humiliation of my situation. The lesson will be a 
profitable one and in the end fully compensate for all 
I undergo now.” 

"I feel sure,” said Gage, after a moment’s thought, 
"that the loss of your position is not the cause of your 
new resolutions. Other influences must have been at 
work.” 

"Yes, you are right, and I will tell you all about it. 
It is my turn now to make you a confidant.” 

St. Clair related in detail all the thoughts and feel- 
ings aroused as he listened to the recitations during 
the entertainment at Corinth, and described the mood 
he was in as he rode homeward, and the final act of 
rising to his feet in the buggy and dashing the bottle to 
the ground, thus causing the runaway. Gage was 
deeply interested in the recital, and greatly surprised 
to learn of the influence exerted by the fair unknown 
reader, and also to learn that the accident resulted 
from a praiseworthy act. Being himself in love he 
was full of sympathy with St. Clair’s enthusiasm about 
the one who had awakened such emotions. 

"St. Clair talked long and eloquently of the sen- 
sations aroused during his visit to Corinth, and his 
friend fully understood and appreciated the nature of 


64 


HELENA. 


the experiences through which he had passed. But 
at length, realizing that his sympathetic friend de- 
served some consideration and possibly commisera- 
tion, St. Clair changed from the topic of his own love 
by asking: 

“Do you still consider your love hopeless after what 
happened last night at the cabin on the cliff?” 

“I confess,’^ replied Gage, “that I am now embold- 
ened to make advances, which otherwise I would have 
considered presumptuous. At the first opportune oc- 
casion I will make a plain, honest avowal to Miss Bar- 
nard. She had no knowledge of my presence, and her 
manner was sincere and natural. Even if she accepts 
me, it will be a long time before I tell her of my hav- 
ing been an involuntary witness of the occurrences 
of last night. I am satisfied now that she cares more 
for me than I considered possible.” 

“Yes, my friend, a very strange order of circum- 
stances has revealed a secret which otherwise would 
have been sacredly guarded. Your course is clear. 
Act as your heart dictates, without disclosing that you 
have any insight into the sentiments of the object of 
your adoration.” 

“I will do so, and I hope at an early date to be ready 
for your congratulations.” 


MOTHER AND DAUGHTER. 


65 


CHAPTER VIL 

MOTHER AND DAUGHTER. 

There is in life no blessing like affection ; 

It soothes, it hallows, elevates, subdues, 

And bringeth down to earth its native heaven : — 

Life has naught else that may supply its place.” 

— Laridon. 

At the home of Lawyer Triston, in Corinth, on the 
day following the incidents occurring at the fortune- 
teller’s cabin, Katie Gardiner and her mother were 
seated in a cosy room, engaged in a confidential chat. 
It was their habit to tell to each other all that in any 
way interested the one or the other. Mrs. Brannan 
was a lady of high moral and intellectual attainments, 
and her daughter was of the same mold of moral and 
mental acquirement. They interchanged views and 
discussed subjects more like two sympathetic friends 
than like mother and daughter. The fullest confi- 
dence existed between them. Both had a deep re- 
ligious nature. Their faith in God was unclouded; 
their trust in mankind was unsuspicious. They were 
united not only by the sacred bonds of the purest 
earthly relationship, but by the still more sacred ties 
of oneness in Christ’s love. Mrs. Brannan had instilled 
into her daughter’s mind, from infancy, the sublime 


66 


HELENA. 


truths of God’s word; and now, in her budding 
womanhood, Katie exhibited the fruits of such whole- 
some instruction. The world may carp and cavil, 
deride and despise the tenets of Christianity, but, after 
all, the purest and best, the truest and happiest, are 
those who retain through all the vicissitudes of life a 
simple, unfaltering trust in the old, old story of the 
Cross. 

“Now, mother,” said Katie, as she plied her nimble 
fingers on some fancy work and gazed fondly upon the 
sweet face of the loved one, who sat opposite, quietly 
knitting, “I wish to tell you about my visit to the cabin 
on the cliff. You know I never believed in fortune- 
telling, and I do not now. Still, it will interest you 
to hear the wonderful revelation made concerning my 
matrimonial prospects. Unlike what I expected, the 
seer did not deal in generalities, and prophecy what 
might readily apply to anyone. I thought he would 
say a great many meaningless things about good for- 
tune, and lovers to appear, away in the future; but, 
instead, he said the crisis of my life was just at hand — 
that the one with whose fortunes my destiny was to be 
linked was near by. He even gave a description of 
my hero, and the initials of his name. How can he 
expect to keep up his pretensions, when he makes 
statements so improbable and so easily disproved?” 

“He should foretell the future, but say nothing of 
the past, for the reason that somebody is sure to know 
the past. They know as little about the future as the 
fortune-teller does. It is certainly remarkable that he 
undertakes to indicate particularly what is to happen 


MOTHER AND DAUGHTER. 6/ 

immediately, for if it does not he is at once proven 
an imposter.” 

^‘Well, you know it cannot happen in my case. As 
I have never yet regarded anyone in the light of a 
suitor, it is absurd for him to describe and almost 
name a lover.” 

“Of course it is, my child. Such frolics answer for 
a little diversion, but should not receive any serious 
consideration. 

“I am not at all serious over it. I do not even rec- 
ollect the description given or the initials. Oh! I 
remember now that one of the gentlemen present 
wrote out my fortune on a card and gave it to me. 
Let me get it and read to you a description of your 
future son-in-law.” 

She soon returned from her room with a card in 
her hand, and read as follows : 



On reading the words in brackets, she turned the 
card over and burst into a ringing laugh. She had 
not before examined the card. 


68 


HELENA. 


‘‘Look at this mother/’ she cried. “Here is quite 
a witty pleasantry on the part of the young gentleman. 
I remember the letters traced on the chart by the rod 
in my hand were H. S. C. See the reverse side of 
the card, handing it to her mother: 



“This is turning out quite an adventure. Harry 
Thorne introduced the young man as Mr. Clark. That 
his initials should correspond with those made on 
the chart is curious. I did not observe him particu- 
larly, but he certainly had a full beard and mustache 
and was of good general appearance — I wonder if he 
had deep blue eyes?” 

“There is no doubt of it,” replied Mrs. Brannan, 
smiling. “Everything indicates that the fortune-teller 
and Mr. Clark are known to each other, and all was 
done purposely as a jest.” 

“That is a very natural inference. Still, I am posi- 
tive, from the conversation of Harry Thorne and the 
others that the fortune-teller was entirely unknown to 
all present. Mr. Clark could have had no understand- 



MOTHER AND DAUGHTER. 69 

ing in reference to me, as my coming could not have 
been known. How it all came about I cannot imagine 
now, but the explanation will doubtless appear later. 
In the meantime, it can all pass as a pleasant joke, 
for such I am sure it was intended by Mr. Clark.” 

Katie recounted to her mother the fortunes told of 
the other members of the party. She had been very 
favorably impressed with Miss Barnard and Miss Gage 
and looked forward with pleasure to a promised visit 
from them at an early day. As all she had met at the 
cabin were intimately known to her friend, Harry 
Thorne, the acquaintance so strangely made was re- 
garded with favor. In due course of time an intimate 
friendship grew up between all who were so unexpect- 
edly brought together that night at the house on the 
cliff.” 

^‘Mother,” said Katie, after she had finished the 
story of the previous night’s experience, ‘T had a very 
vivid dream last night. I do not usually remember 
dreams, but this one somehow impresses me, as the 
incidents are so distinctly retained in my mind. Shall 
I tell it to you?” 

‘'Oh, yes, my dear. I am like everybody else, ready 
to listen to a dream, and yet I have never known one 
to be realized. I have no superstitions about them. 
Owing to the peculiar occurrences at the fortune- 
teller’s, your mind was excited, and for that reason 
your dream was vivid; but tell it to me, dear.” 

“In my dream, I heard a voice calling my name. 
I 'did not recognize the voice, yet the tones seemed 
familiar. It was like my father’s, yet I was sure it 


70 


HELENA. 


was not his. The call was repeated, clearly and dis- 
tinctly, ‘Katie, come to me.’ Tenderly and pleadingly 
the words were spoken. I answered, ‘Yes, I will 
come.’ I arose and started in the direction of the 
voice, when suddenly I found myself in the streets of 
a large and strange city. Some invisible influence led 
my steps along the street until I came in front of a 
two-story red brick house; the gate opened and in 
some twenty steps I reached the front door, which 
opened on my turning the knob. The street, the yard 
and the house are now so distinct in my mind that if 
there is such a place and I should come upon it when 
awake I should recognize it instantly. What I was 
doing did not seem strange to me, yet everything I 
saw was unfamiliar. Entering the hall, I ascended the 
stairway to the second floor and pushed open a door 
leading into a large front room. On the opposite side 
of the room I saw someone lying on a bed. The light 
from the lamp on the mantel fell full upon the face. 
It was not altogether strange to me, yet I could not 
recall when or where I had seen it. As I looked upon 
the quiet, white face before me, my imagination car- 
ried me back to childhood days, but my mind was con- 
fused and wandering — I could not discern definite 
shape and expression of some face I had known l$)ng 
ago. In advancing a step towards the bed, I was 
startled to see the eyes open and gaze intently upon 
me. I had no sense of fear — all seemed natural, and 
that I was there for some important purpose, but I 
could not make out what it was. In a moment the 
form arose, and with arms outstretched towards me 


mother and daughter. 

uttered, in the same voice I had first heard calling my 
name, these words: 'Thank God, you have come in 
time. I have repented my bitter, foolish vow, and 
all will be well with you now. Let me kiss and bless 
you ere I die. I sprang to the bedside to receive his 
caress and blessing, and just as I felt the touch of his 
arms around me, I awoke.’’ 

"Your dream impresses me more than I expected. 
Can you describe the one who spoke those words to 
you?” 

“He had a full, round face, light blue eyes, reddish- 
colored hair and beard, streaked with gray, and ap- 
peared to be fifty-four or five years of age.” 

“Your dream is indeed startling. The description 
you give answers to that of your Uncle Jared, your 
father’s only brother. Still, it is only a dream. The 
strange wanderings of the mind during bodily sleep 
cannot always be accounted for. In your case it prob- 
ably arises from impressions made on your mind when 
very young. Your uncle, Jared Gardiner, spent near- 
ly six months at our home when you were about four 
years of age. He was greatly attached to you, and 
you were very fond of him. Although you do not 
remember what happened when you were so young, 
still, in a dream, it might be possible to reproduce 
features that were so familiar to your infant mind. 
And, besides, you have doubtless, in years past, heard 
your father and myself speak of the personal appear- 
ance of your uncle. In this way I account for the 
personnel of your dream creation, and as to the other 


72 


HELENA. 


incidents and words, they are the unaccountable va- 
garies of a dream, and therefore meaningless/’ 

“Fourteen years ago my uncle’s hair and beard 
would not have been streaked with gray, nor would 
he have appeared past fifty years of age. If your 
solution of the dream creation is correct, I must in my 
vision have added the effects of the years intervening 
since the impression of his appearance was imprinted 
on my infantile mind.” 

“I see,” replied Mrs. Brannan, smiling, “that I have 
overlooked a detail which seriously interferes with my 
theory. We had better just simply call it a dream, and 
not try to account for it.” 

“But do you think it can have no significance? 
Might it not be a warning of uncle’s illness and of his 
desire for reconciliation.” 

“I do not believe that such revelations are made 
through the medium of dreams. Knowing your 
uncle as I do, I cannot entertain the idea that he 
would, even at death’s door, change a resolution once 
formed. Although a good man in many respects, he 
was self-willed and stubborn to the last degree — al- 
most the very opposite of your father, who was kind, 
obliging and generous to a fault. As I have told you 
before, your uncle took a great fancy to you in your 
childhood, and proposed to adopt you as his heir, if 
allowed to take you to his home as soon as you 
reached proper school age. He was a bachelor, but as 
he had a good housekeeper and plenty of servants, 
kept house in very elegant style in Philadelphia. Your 
father replied to the proposal, ‘that he would not part 


mother and daughter. 

with his jewel for all the other jewels in the world.’ 
‘Very well,’ retorted your uncle, in great indignation, 
‘you can keep your jewel, and I’ll keep mine. Not a 
farthing of my wealth shall ever go to you or yours.’ 
He departed at once, and although your father wrote 
kind, brotherly letters to him many times, no answer 
was ever made. When your father died, I notified 
him of the sad event, and received a few cold lines 
saying he hoped I was comfortably provided for, as he 
had adopted a cousin as his heir and had made his 
will, leaving all to the child of his adoption; that I 
need never expect any inheritance from him. I wrote 
in reply that I did not seek any interest in his wealth, 
but only to be on good terms with the brother of my 
husband, whom I had loved so fondly and now 
mourned so deeply. He did not answer, and it is 
some twelve years since any word has been recdved 
concerning him. Whether living or dying, I am sure 
Jared Gardiner would never seek reconciliation.” 

“Well, if he should call to me when I am awake, 
I will go to him as I did in my dream, not because 
of his riches, but because of his being the brother 
of my sainted father.” 


74 


HELENA. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

DEUX CARTES DE VISITE. 

“ Were his eyes open? Yes, and his mouth too ; — 
Surprise has this effect, to make one dumb. 

Yet leaves the gate, which eloquence slips through, 

As wide as if a long speech were to come. ” 

— Byron, 

Harvey St. Clair, about a week after his dis- 
charge from the bank, paid a visit to Harry Thorne. 
He frankly told his friend the results of his attendance 
at the. temperance entertainment, so far as they related 
to his change of views and resolutions formed. 

He did not divulge the love emotions aroused by 
Miss Gardiner, but said that her fine rendition caused 
him to think, and thereby to resolve a change in his 
habits. He should be glad to make her acquaintance, 
but did not wish her to have the thought that he was 
indebted to her for impressions changing his ideas of 
life. He felt that if she knew that he regarded her 
as one who had done him a great service, it would put 
her in an attitude of interested sympathy for him. 

Thorne understood the feelings of his friend fully 
and respected them. He was greatly surprised and 
indignant on hearing of St. Clair’s discharge from the 
bank. St. Clair did not intimate his suspicions as to 
who he thought had poisoned the mind of the banker 


DEUX CARTES DE VISITE. 


75 


against him. Thorne was fully satisfied of his friend’s 
sincerity in the resolutions made, and his most pro- 
found interest in his prospects was aroused. 

He at once sought the influence of Judge Triston 
and others of his friends in behalf of St. Clair. Through 
their united endeavors, a position was obtained for him 
in the bank at Corinth. This result was so gratify- 
ing to St. Clair that he almost felt himself under ob- 
ligations to Herman Clark for what he was certain 
he had been instrumental in accomplishing. 

One evening, shortly after St. Clair had been es- 
tablished in his new situation, Harry Thorne accom- 
panied him in a call at the residence of Judge Triston, 
for the purpose of introducing him to Miss Gardiner. 
During the evening, while St. Clair and Miss Gardiner 
were conversing on general literary topics, Thorne 
happened to pick up a card lying on the center table. 
He was surprised to find on one side of it the name 
of Herman S. Clark, and on the other the words of 
the fortune-teller concerning Miss Gardiner’s lover. 
After a moment’s reflection, he took up the visiting 
card of St. Clair, which had been handed in when they 
called that evening. Arising, he asked to be excused 
while he stepped into the library room to examine a 
certain book. When alone, he took the card of St. 
Clair and wrote on the back of it the exact words as 
they appeared on the back of Clark’s card. After a 
short absence he returned to the parlor, and, unob- 
served, placed St. Clair’s card where he had found 
Clark’s, and put Mr. Clark’s card in his pocket. He 
had no special design in this action, but his quick 


76 


HELENA. 


perception discovered that the general description was 
identical, and the capital letters in their names were 
the same, and concluded that the exchange of cards 
might result in an amusing mystification. He did not 
dream how far-reaching might be the consequences of 
so trivial a jest. Presently Judge Triston and Mrs. 
Brannan came into the parlor, and a very pleasant 
evening was spent. St. Clair was a very entertaining 
colloquist, and the acquaintance formed was pleasing 
on all sides. St. Clair became a frequent and wel- 
come visitor. 

A few days later a buggy stopped at the door of 
Judge Triston’s residence, and Mr. Herman Clark 
alighted. He sent in his card, inquiring for Miss 
Gardiner. He had been seated in the parlor only a 
few minutes when that young lady appeared. 

“I hope, Miss Gardiner,” he said, with a polite bow 
and gracious smile, ^‘that I am not presuming in 
making a call on one whose acquaintance I made by 
accident. Business matters brought me to Corinth 
to-day, and I felt I ought, perhaps, to apologize for a 
seemingly unpardonable boldness. I refer to the act 
of giving you my card, with the words in brackets 
on it. On the impulse of the moment I did it, but 
only in the spirit of jest. Of course, I did not assume 
myself (an entire stranger to you) to be the one so 
honored of the gods. The coincidence of the initials 
struck me, and I felt I might rely on your ready ap- 
preciation of a pleasantry to acquit me of rudeness.” 

“I understood it precisely as you say you intended 
it. I was greatly amused on looking at the card and 


DEUX CARTES DE VISITE. 


77 


ODservmg the coincidence of description and initials, 
for I was certain that you, as well as myself, had no 
part in contriving the concurrence.” 

“You do me full justice. I was apprehensive that 
the singular coincidence and my calling attention to 
the initials might have caused you to think a trick was 
imposed. I am indeed gratified that you did not mis- 
understand, and now I trust that I may not be de- 
barred from your friendship because the idle words of 
the fortune-teller seemed to point to me as one con- 
nected with your destiny. I wish to rest my claims 
on your friendship to my own personality, and not to 
the predictions of a soothsayer.” 

In making this disclaimer of any faith in the occult 
science, he felt that any tendencies to superstition she 
might have would assert itself more surely thereby. 
He believed that everyone had more or less super- 
stition, and that, although she would deny having any, 
it would operate in his favor if he seemed free from 
such influences altogether; and he was right in this 
conjecture. 

“I assure you that what occurred arouses no preju- 
dices against you. But can you account for the sin- 
gular utterances of the fortune-teller?” 

“I cannot. It is the most unaccountable thing I 
ever heard of. Neither of us ever saw him previously, 
and I am certain he had never seen or heard of either of 
us. On my way here to-day I stopped at his cabin 
and asked him how he came to describe me in telling 
your fortune; he replied that he did not describe any- 


78 


HELENA. 


one he had ever seen, but simply read the language of 
the signs of your horoscope.” 

The latter part of this statement was untrue. The 
fortune-teller had told him that he had in mind a 
Mr. St. Clair, whom he had seen several times re- 
cently, but did not disclose the fact of St. Clair’s 
presence that night. 

When Clark ceased speaking, he carelessly took 
up a card from the table, and laughingly read aloud 
the writing on it: 

“ He is of fine personal appearance, nearly six foot 
in height, and well proportioned. Wears a full beard 
and mustache — has fair complexion, regular features 
and deep blue eyes. There are signs of trouble over- 
shadowing your life, but light appears behind the 
shadows, which augurs a happy conclusion after 
while.” (For initials see other side.) 

Mr. Clark was in a very gay humor, and joined 
with Miss Gardiner in a hearty laugh as he finished 
the reading and looked up into her face. Glancing 
again at the card, he mechanically reversed it. A 
startled look overspread his countenance; then an 
angry frown gathered, and he grit his teeth in sup- 
pressed rage. He had seen the name of Harvey St. 
Clair on the card instead of his own. Fie quickly 
threw the card on the table, and muttered to himself, 
'T will get even for this trick, Mr. St. Clair. I 
caused you to lose your position in the bank, and I 
will see that ill-luck follows you.” In a moment, how- 
ever, he regained his composure, and a lively conversa- 
tipn was carried on for some time. At length, when 


DEUX CARTES DE VISITE. 


79 


he arose to take his leave, he was invited to call again. 
Thus begun an acquaintance which was destined to 
long continue. 

During the six months following their association 
ripened into a warm, friendly intimacy. Miss Gardi- 
ner had spent a week with Miss Barnard, in return 
for a visit made to her. While there, Clark had been 
a frequent caller. Almost every evening there was 
a gathering of Miss Barnard’s friends, either at her 
uncle’s house or at the home of some of her neighbors. 
On all occasions Clark and Gage were present, to- 
gether with other gentlemen and ladies of their circle. 
In the afternoons delightful drives were taken. 

John Gage realized that the impression made on his 
mind at the fortune-teller’s house was correct. He 
was relieved of a rival. Mr. Clark paid his attentions 
almost exclusively to Miss Gardiner, and she seemed 
very well pleased. Gage was too happy in having 
the constant privilege of attending upon Miss Barnard 
to give much thought to the conduct of others. At 
times he remembered the revelation Harvey St. Clair 
had made of his feelings towards Miss Gardiner, and 
he experienced some uneasiness about his friend’s 
prospects as he observed the growing intimacy be- 
tween Herman Clark and that young lady. 

In regard to his own affairs. Gage acted very dis- 
creetly for several weeks after the occurrences at the 
cabin on the cliff. He did not change his manner to- 
wards Miss Barnard in the least, and carefully avoided 
making any advances until time should have banished 
from her mind the fortune-teller’s words. However, 


8o 


HELENA. 


during the visit of Miss Gardiner, when he was thrown 
more exclusively with Miss Barnard, he began to 
carry out the purpose he had declared to St. Clair. 
He was not long in discovering that all his old ap- 
prehensions were groundless. While his poverty had 
been an obstacle to him, he soon found out that it was 
not one to her. Being satisfied that his love was re- 
ciprocated, he avoided a definite avowal until he had 
conferred with her uncle in reference to the matter 
of her father’s consent. 

Mr. Joseph Barnard was not greatly surprised at 
the statement of the young man. He had knowti 
John Gage from his infancy, and had been deeply grat- 
ified to see him develop into a pure, noble and spotless 
manhood. He felt that if he had a daughter of his 
own he should be glad to welcome such a son-in-law; 
and he at once relieved Gage of much anxiety by offer- 
ing to write and lay the whole matter before his 
brother. He assured John that Lena’s father would 
only consult her happiness, and as it was evident in 
what direction that tended, the happy issue of his 
overtures might be easily conjectured. 

Accordingly, after ascertaining from his niece the 
true state of her heart, Mr. Joseph Barnard addressed 
a lengthy letter to his brother, in which everything im- 
portant for the father to know was stated. At the 
close of his letter he used the following words: 

“You, dear brother, have other daughters, while I 
have no children. My wife and I are growing old. 
I wish to be relieved from my large stock and farming 
interest. I know you will naturally desire to have 


DEUX CARTES DE VISITE. 


8r 


your daughter, after marriage, live near you; but with 
your other children at home you can afford not only 
to spare Lena to a worthy young man, but also to 
me. If, with your consent, she can marry Mr. Gage, 
I wish them to live with me — to share my home. 
With the opportunities I can give him in the line of a 
partnership in the increase of stock and the profits of 
the farm, he will soon be a rich man, while I shall be 
none the poorer.” 

In due time an answer came to this letter, and also 
a lengthy one to Lena. Suffice it to say, the desired 
consent and blessing were not withheld. It was ar- 
ranged that Lena should soon terminate her visit 
and return home to make preparations for the wed- 
ding; that Mr. Gage, at the appointed time, should 
follow, and that after the honeymoon they should 
make their future home at Meadow Farm. 


/ 


82 


HELENA. 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE fortune-teller’s STORY. 

“ Mine after-life ! What is mine after-life ? 

My day is dosed ! The gloom of night is come ; 

A hopeless darkness settles o’er my fate !” 

— Baillie. 

“ So farewell, hope, and with hope farewell fear; 

Farewell remorse ; all good to me is lost; 

Evil, be thou my good !” 

— Milton. 

Clark was greatly enraged over the substitution 
of St. Clair’s card for his own with the fortune-teller’s 
words written thereon. He sought the fortune-teller, 
determined to make him his friend, with the view of 
using him. By various means he poisoned his mind 
against St. Clair. He asserted that St. Clair was not 
only dissipated but very weak, and guilty of a grave 
crime, as would shortly appear. By degrees he won 
the fortune-teller’s confidence. He saw at once that 
behind the pretence of fortune-telling there was an 
important secret, and all his subtle ingenuity was ex- 
erted to ascertain what it was. His great plausibility 
and warm proffers of friendship at length overcame 
the reticence of the recluse, who agreed to unfold the 
story of his life if Mr. Clark would spend the following 
Sunday at the cabin. Accordingly, Mr. Clark ap- 


THE fortune-teller’s STORY. 


83 


peared at the time indicated, and the fortune-teller 
promptly began the revelation promised. With his 
wig and false beard removed and dressed in ordinary 
suit, he presented a creditable appearance, having no 
resemblance to the grotesque figure of the fortune- 
teller. 

‘‘My name is Stephen Pye. Of the early years of 
my life I will not speak, as they were passed without 
incident of especial interest. Soon after the begin- 
ning of the War of the Rebellion, I enlisted in the 
Union Army. While my regiment was stationed at 
Cleveland, Tennessee, in the fall of 1863, I was seized 
with a terrible attack of home-sickness. I had left a 
young wife at the home of my father and mother, who 
were quite old, and the thought came to me that I 
might never see wife and aged parents again; a 
great longing for home took possession of me. It 
grew in intensity. I could not overcome the home- 
sick feeling. At that time a general order of the War 
Department was in force, prescribing that no furlough 
would be granted, except on surgeon’s certificate that 
it was necessary in order to save life or to prevent 
permanent disability. A singular experience through 
which I passed at this time I will relate, as it had an 
important bearing on the later incidents of my life. 
One day, while brooding over the hopelessness of se- 
curing a furlough, and feeling unusually despondent, 
my eye rested on an advertisement in a newspaper. 
It stated that medical boards for the examination of 
applicants for position of hospital steward in colored 
regiments were in session at New York, Boston, Phil- 


84 


HELENA. 


adelphia and Cincinnati. One of these cities was near 
my home and also the most convenient point to the 
place where I was then stationed. A wild impulse 
seized me. I knew nothing whatever about medicine 
and under no circumstances would have taken a posi- 
tion in a negro regiment, but I at once decided to 
apply. 

I was sure I could not pass the examination, and 
determined not to, if I could. My only object was to 
be ordered to the point near my home, which I pur- 
posed to reach, in some way or other, before I re- 
turned to my regiment, after failing to pass the ex- 
amination. My application was promptly forwarded 
through the proper military channels, and in due time 
it came back with an endorsement thereon, stating 
that a new board had been appointed to convene at 
Knoxville, Tennessee, and that the applicant was or- 
dered to appear there. You can imagine my dis- 
comfiture. This was taking me further from hom.e, 
instead of nearer to it. There was no alternative, 
however. The transportation and orders to go were 
sent to me by the commanding officer. On reaching 
Knoxville, I reported to the medical director, and was 
assigned quarters with the surgeon of a Tennessee col- 
ored regiment stationed there. The following day I 
appeared at the room of the examining board. As 
soon as I found opportunity, I stated to the members 
of the board that I had changed my mind and did 
not desire to undergo the examination. 

‘Why did you come here, then?’ asked the presi- 
dent of the board. 


the fortune-teller's story. 


85 


“Because I was ordered, and, having obeyed the 
order, I now request that you order me back to the 
regiment. 

“ 'What caused you to change your mind?’ 

“I was convinced by what I saw at my quarters last 
night, with the surgeon of a colored regiment, that 
the position would not be an agreeable one.” I said 
this as the best excuse I could think of, being anxious 
it should not be discovered that my application had 
not been made in good faith. I feared arrest and 
punishment in case my real motive was disclosed. 

“ ‘Well,’ replied the chairman of the board, ‘I do not 
blame you for objecting to a position in the colored 
regiment; but this board also examines for position of 
hospital steward in the regular army, and that is a 
better berth than assistant surgeon of volunteers. 
You can change your application, and we will proceed 
with the examination.’ 

“Here was a dilemma I had not counted on. Hav- 
ing never looked into a medical work, and scarcely 
knowing one drug from another, how could I stand 
an examination on the duties of a hospital steward? 

“ ‘No,’ I said, ‘I do not want the place. Please give 
me an order to return to my regiment.’ 

“ ‘Our first order will be for you to reply to a few 
questions. What medical works have you read?’ 

“I felt I was caught, but in desperation answered 
promptly: 

“ ‘I never read any, sir.’ 

“He seemed astonished, but smilingly said: 

“ ‘What books have you read, then?’ 


86 


HELENA. 


“ ‘Law books/ I replied. 

“ ‘What is law?’ he asked. 

“I gave him Blackstone’s definition. He then asked 
me quite a number of law questions. Evidently he had 
studied law as well as medicine. Next, he interro- 
gated me on geography, history, mathematics and the 
languages. My answers appeared satisfactory, and 
he seemed to be in a pleasant humor. At length he 
said: 

“ ‘You say you have no knowledge of medicine. 
Can you tell what would be an overdose of quinine?’ 

“Although thoroughly frightened now, I responded 
promptly : 

“ ‘I saw in a newspaper the other day an account of 
an Irishman’s taking an ounce inside of twenty-four 
hours without it killing him, but I do not know how 
much it would take to kill one of those big buck 
negroes I saw last evening in the Tennessee colored 
regiment.’ 

“All the members of the board laughed heartily. They 
were regular army officers and evidently not in sym- 
pathy with the negro troops. 

“ ‘Never mind that,’ said the president of the board, 
still laughing. ‘You are not being examined for that 
service, but for the regular army. What would be an 
overdose of laudanum?’ 

“ ‘I do not know, sir.’ I was so confused and 
alarmed now that I did not know laudanum from pare- 
goric. 

“ ‘What! do not know that? Suppose you were in a 
general hospital and a soldier had an attack of cholera- 


THE FORTUNE-TELLER'S STORY. 8/ 

morbus, and no physician was present, how much 
would you risk as a venture?’ 

“ ‘Not a drop, sir.’ 

“ ‘What! would you let the man die?’ 

“ ‘Yes, before I would kill him. I do not know 
anything about medicines, and I would not administer 
any until I found out from somebody who did know.’ 

“ ‘Well, we are certain of one thing; there is no 
danger of your killing anyone, and that is more than 
can be said of some hospital stewards.’ 

“Instead of being indignant and shocked, as I ex- 
pected, at the idea of an application for such a position 
from a man utterly ignorant of the first principles of 
materia medica, they appeared greatly amused. 

“ ‘Let us see what you know about making out re- 
ports. Here are blanks used in a general hospital.’ 

“Having had large clerical experience, I could read- 
ily put in proper shape the supposed cases that were 
stated. I showed to better advantage than in the line 
of the dispensary. Finally the chairman of the board 
announced that the examination was finished, and that 
I could retire. When I had reached the door, a sud- 
den impulse caused me to turn back and ask permis- 
sion to say a word, which was granted. 

“ ‘Gentlemen,’ I said, ‘I do not know what your re- 
port in my case will be — whether favorable or not. It 
is probably none of my business; but I should like to 
ask that you report unfavorably, as I now desire to 
continue with my regiment.’ 

“ ‘It has been a uniform rule of this board,’ replied 
the chairman, ‘not to tell an applicant whether he has 


88 


HELENA. 


or has not passed. Our report is made to the Surgeon- 
General, and the result is announced by that officer. 
Heretofore this rule has not been broken, but this time 
we will violate it and tell you that our report will be 
favorable. You will not, of course, be assigned to 
duty in the dispensary department, but you have quali- 
fications for usefulness in other lines of the general 
hospital service. Good day, sir.’ ” 

Mr. Clark was becoming impatient over the gar- 
rulous egotism of Stephen Pye in giving the minute 
details of his examination, but refrained from inter- 
rupting him. 

'‘On passing out of the room,” continued Mr. Pye, 
"I was followed by an officer who had been present 
during the entire proceedings. As I soon learned, he 
had no connection with the board, but was there on 
some matter of business, and remained to hear the ex- 
amination. He accosted me as I reached the street. 

" 'Pardon me, sir,’ he said, 'I wish to make the ac- 
quaintance of one who has passed through such an 

ordeal as you have. I am Captain Brannan, of 

Regiment. If you will accompany me, I promise you 
more desirable accommodations than those you spoke 
of having with the surgeon of the colored regiment.’ 

" ‘Thank you. Captain, I will gladly accept your in- 
vitation.’ 

"I accompanied the officer to his quarters. We soon 
became quite well acquainted, and when I confided 
to him my motive in applying for examination before 
the board, he said he would try to be of service in get- 
ting me ordered north, so that I could visit home. He 


THE FORTUNE-TELLER'S STORY. 


89 


informed me that he was tired of military life — it was 
not suited to his tastes — and that as he had tendered 
his resignation, he expected soon to be at liberty to 
return to civil life. He was a lawyer, and did not wish 
to lose any more time in selecting a permanent location 
in which to build up a practice. The small town where 
he had studied law and where he had enlisted was un- 
suited to his aspirations. He inquired about my native 
town, and seemed greatly interested in my account of 
it, saying he would certainly visit it before deciding 
upon a location. 

“My new acquaintance provided me with good ac- 
commodations that night, and the following morning I 
returned to my regiment. In a short time I received my 
appointment as hospital steward in the regular army, 
with orders to report at Nashville, Tennessee, to be 
mustered in. At the same time I received a letter from 
Captain Brannan, stating that he had received a recom- 
mendation from the board of examiners that I be 
ordered to Louisville, Ky., for duty in the general hos- 
pitals at that point; that his resignation had been ac- 
cepted and that in two days he would be on his way 
north and hoped I would be ready to board the same 
train. Ispent a day in saying good-bye to my friends in 
the regiment; the next, stepped on the train, and, as I 
expected, found Captain Brannan among the passen- 
gers. We stopped at Nashville only long enough for me 
to be mustered into the new service and then continued 
northward. In talking the matter over Captain Bran- 
nan concluded to go at once to Greenwich, my home 
town, to investigate the prospects of locating there. 


90 


HELENA. 


I passed through Louisville, without reporting to the 
Assistant Surgeon, General Woods, as I had been 
ordered, and soon arrived at my home. I will not 
attempt to describe my happy meeting with wife and 
parents. Only those who have reached home after 
experiencing real homesickness can know the happi- 
ness I felt. Captain Brannan spent three days in 
Greenwich^ carefully examining all the points suitable 
and unsuitable to his project. He insisted on stopping 
at a hotel, but spent the evenings at my home. His 
manners were engaging, and he was soon on the most 
friendly terms with my people. I introduced him as 
one who had been both courteous and serviceable to 
me. I entertained very warm and cordial feelings 
toward him. From the first he had favorably im- 
pressed me. I had no misgivings or presentiment of 
any evil to come through this man. At the end of 
three days he departed for his home in the East. I 
remained four days longer — seven happy days at home, 
and then returned to Louisville, where I was assigned 
to duty at Brown’s general hospital. I heard from 
home frequently and was informed that Captain Bran- 
nan had established himself at Greenwich and was rap- 
idly building up a good practice. My wife’s letters 
often mentioned his calling at my home, and always 
kindly inquiring about me. A year passed. I felt at 
times, in a vague way, that Madeline’s letters were less 
loving than formerly, but no definite suspicion entered 
my mind. For several months no mention had been 
made of Captain Brannan, and he had almost passed 
out of my recollection. I had been transferred to 


THE FORTUNE-TELLER'S STORY. 


91 


Memphis, Tenn., and had not been able to secure a 
furlough; but as the war had now terminated, I was 
seeking my discharge and expected soon to return 
home. While I was anxiously waiting for my dis- 
charge papers, a letter came from my father, contain- 
ing a revelation which forever blighted my life. It 
stated that very scandalous rumors had suddenly 
started about my wife and Captain Brannan, and im- 
mediately both had disappeared; no one knew where 
they had gone. I was wild, distracted, almost de- 
mented. That very day my discharge papers reached 
me, and I started for home, or for what had been my 
home. On reaching there I investigated diligently to 
ascertain if there was any clew to the direction taken 
by the runaways. I could learn nothing beyond the 
fact that Madeline and Captain Brannan had disap- 
peared at the same time, but no one had seen either 
leave the town. Evidently they had met at night, and 
by some means reached a neighboring station. 
Whether they had gone east or west I could not dis- 
cover. From those intimately acquainted with Cap- 
tain Brannan I gained some insight into his inclina- 
tions and prevailing tendencies of disposition and 
character. Guided by no other light, I determined to 
devote my life to the work of discovering and punish- 
ing the destroyer of my home. I traveled through 
many States, passing from town to town and from 
city to city, searching in the places where I thought 
he was most likely to be found, judging from tempera- 
ment, as described to me. My father aided me Avith 
means of travel as long as he could afford it, but at 


92 


HELENA. 


length advised me that I must give up the fruitless 
search, as he could spare no more funds with which to 

prosecute it further. I was then in the city of C , 

and in my wanderings through the various streets I 
had made the acquaintance of a very singular charac- 
ter who had apartments where he told the fortunes of 
those who sought his offices. His sign bore the name 
of ‘Wm. Askew, Prince of Prophets.’ I did not believe 
that any one had occult powers, and did not seek his 
services as fortune-teller, but considering that he 
might gain points of information from the many who 
visited him, I told him my story. He at once became 
interested in me, and asked for minute descriptions of 
the guilty pair. He frankly told me about himself — 
how he in different capacities had spent several years 
in the city, frequently changing his locality for the 
purpose of learning as much as possible about fami- 
lies before disguising himself as a fortune-teller. He 
had made careful memoranda of bits of family history 
of a great many people in various sections of the city. 
After opening his fortune-telling establishment he had 
sent his advertisements specially to those with whose 
secret history he had become acquainted. Many who 
came to him he knew well, but, being disguised, he 
was unknown to them. His revelations in many in- 
stances were so remarkable as to give him great fame, 
and his occupation became very remunerative. He 
encouraged me with the statement that if the ones I 
sought were or had been recently in that city he would 
certainly discover it. I visited him many times, but 
nothing had transpired in the direction of my longing. 


THE fortune-teller’s STORY. 


93 


On calling one morning, after several days’ absence, I 
found Mr. Askew very sick. I offered to remain with 
him and render such service as I could. He was 
very thankful, and as he had comfortable bachelor 
quarters in rear of the room he used for the reception 
of patrons, he asked me to live with him for a time. 
For the sake of company he was very willing, he said, 
to provide me board and lodging. His physical con- 
dition was causing him considerable anxiety, and not 
without reason, as I soon discovered. Several weeks 
passed, during which time his condition grew gradually 
worse. On some days he was better and was able to 
ply his profession; on others he was too weak, and 
persuaded me to assume his disguise and take his 
place. He instructed me so thoroughly as to his man- 
ner of procedure that I soon became an adept in de- 
ceiving and mystifying his patrons, if not in enlight- 
ening them. In cases where I was at a loss I found ex- 
cuse to retire to next room, and after consultation 
would be able to make some sort of satisfactory reve- 
lation. Billy Askew was indeed a remarkable man; 
his resources were almost boundless in the line of his 
art. Notwithstanding his sickness, he still kept my 
matter in view. He had two agents, who, in the guise 
of peddlers, visited all sections and as opportunity of- 
fered, would drop a word about the wonderful powers 
of the fortune-teller. He supplied these peddlers with 
articles to sell at such rates as enabled them to make a 
a living. They were not only bound to Mr. Askew 
on account of financial considerations, but also at- 
tached to him because of his strange influence over 


94 


HELENA. 


them. To these men he was not an imposter. All his 
tricks and subterfuges were kept to himself, and 
through his fertile resources he mystified his accom- 
plices almost as much as he did the patrons they 
brought to him. He was careful in selecting those 
whose superstitious nature could readily be intensi- 
fied and brought to accept and believe whatever he 
pleased. His control over his agents was such that 
they did implicitly as directed — did it willingly and 
cheerfully and were of great use to him. For some 
time he had been sending these peddlers out each day 
in different directions. They brought in good re- 
turns from sales, but no news that concerned me. One 
day I observed that the fortune-teller was deeply in- 
terested in the story one of them was relating. Late 
in the evening of the day following Mr. Askew said 
to me that he had been informed by one of the ped- 
dlers that a lady would that night call to have her 
fortune told. He was not certain of being able to 
reveal her secret history, but wishing me to witness his 
effort asked me to take a position where, without be- 
ing seen I could hear and see all that passed. 


THE MISSING WIFE FOUND. 


95 


CHAPTER X. 

THE MISSING WIFE FOUND. 

^*What next ? I know not, do not care — 

Come pain or pleasure, weal or woe, — 

There’s nothing which I cannot bear. 

Since I have borne this withering blow.” 

— Watson. 

“Soon after dark a closely-veiled woman entered,” 
continued Stephen Pye, while Mr. Clark reclined on 
an easy chair, smoking a fragrant Havana, patiently 
listening to the strange recital. “Mr. Askew, arrayed 
as you have seen me when telling fortunes, was sitting 
in his usual seat. An easel stood at the right of his 
chair, over which was thrown a drapery, completely 
hiding whatever object rested on the easel. He 
pointed the visitor to a seat in front of him, which she 
took, still keeping her face veiled. 

“ ^For what purpose, madam, do you seek me?^ 

“ T have been importuned to visit you by one who 
says you have mysterious powers in revealing what is 
hidden. Can you tell one concerning an absent friend 
or lover?’ 

“The fortune teller asked the date of her birth, and 
then took up an almanac (the table and room were 
lined with almanacs) ; after consulting it, he turned to 
a chart on a table to hi§ left (the same that you ha;VQ 


96 


HELENA. 


seen me use). After closely scrutinizing it awhile, he 
said: 

“ ‘I see clearly your past life. I will try to recount 
the story of your past, and if I read it aright I may be 
able to decipher the future and reveal what you desire 
to know. You will know if I tell correctly what has 
already been.’ 

'‘From my secreted position I observed that the 
veiled figure trembled with excitement as she leaned 
forward to catch the slow, feeble words of the seer. 

“ ‘You were married at an early age, and for a while 
lived happily. Your husband, at length, had cause to 
be absent from home for a considerable time. During 
that absence, you forgot the vows you had made and 
allowed love for another to take possession of your 
heart. You fled with the object of your guilty love 
to another part of the country. In your case, as in 
all similar ones, your dream of happiness was soon 
over. The one who caused you to sin has now left 
you, as you did the one you had vowed to cherish. 
Now, madam, look intently at this magic curtain over 
the easel, and as you gaze think of the false lover, and 
see if the fates will not imprint visibly his name, and 
thus prove that it is given to me to read your inner- 
most secrets?’ 

“She turned her eyes in the direction indicated; 
he paused an instant, and then, reaching out his hand, 
snatched away the curtain. There, on a small black- 
board, in distinct letters, was written: 


Captain Presley Brannan, 


THE MISSING WIFE FOUND. 97 

^‘‘Merciful heavens!’ exclaimed the woman, as she 
sprang to her feet and tore the veil from her face, 
‘how could his name appear there?’ 

“Until I saw the name when the curtain was re- 
moved, I had no idea as to the identity of the visitor. 
I heard the words of the fortune-teller, but thought it 
was only the story of som.e other woman who had 
strayed from virtue’s path. I stepped from behind a 
screen and stood face to face with Madeline, my dis- 
honored wife. Her eyes met mine with a look of 
amazement and dread. My emotions almost over- 
powered me. 

“ ‘Heaven can have no mercy for such as you,’ I 
said, bitterly. ‘Yet, as I remember what you have 
been to me, I will refrain from reproachful words. I 
have sought you long and ardently, not for your 
sake, but that I might find the villain who, under the 
guise of friendship, perpetrated the foul deed which 
has blighted my life. Tell me where this man is.’ 

“ ‘I cannot; I do not know.’ 

“ ‘Is it true, then, as the fortune-teller has said,' that 
he has left you?’ 

“ ‘It is true.’ 

“ ‘Will you tell me when and where you last saw 
him ?’ 

“ ‘Yes, for it will do neither good nor harm. If I 
knew where he was I would not tell you. I only know 
that he is gone — how far or in what direction I have 
no knowledge. We had lived a short time in several 
places before coming to this city, about six months 
^go, Our lodgings were in a retired part of the city, 


98 


HELENA. 


and we expected to remain here permanently. About 
a month ago he left me one morning, saying he would 
return at dinner-time. I have not seen him since.’ 

“ ^Am I to understand that he deserted you with- 
out a word of explanation?’ 

^Yes,’ she replied. 

‘You are trying to deceive,’ said the fortune-teller, 
who had remained a quiet but attentive observer of all 
that had passed. ‘He made no explanation when he 
left, but you have heard from him since.’ 

“Madeline seemed frightened by his solemn tones 
and searching glance. 

“ ‘Speak, madam, and tell the truth,’ he demanded, 
in an imperative tone. 

“ ‘I will tell the whole truth. I received a note from 
him saying that he had discovered that Stephen Pye 
was in the city searching for us. He enclosed money 
to provide for my wants for some time in the future, 
and warned me to keep in close seclusion. He said 
that he would leave the city at once and would never 
return to live with me, as he was tired of hiding from 
the vengeance of my husband. His purpose was to 
locate in a distant State, whether in the east, west, 
north or south he did not say, and when established in 
a practice he would arrange by letter to meet me from 
time to time, but that I must dismiss from my mind 
all thought of our living together again; our separa- 
tion was necessary for peace and safety.’ 

“ ‘Did he tell you when and where to look for a 
communication ?’ 


THE MISSING WIFE FOUND. 


99 


'' When?’ 

‘That I will not tell. If you cannot discover it by 
your powers as a fortune-teller, as you did my identity, 
you will not learn it otherwise.’ 

“ ‘Are you not satisfied with your past folly, and 
ready to make such reparation as you can?’ 

“ ‘Reparation is now impossible. My husband 
would not receive me back, if I desired to return, and 
knowing my unworthiness, I would not go if he of- 
fered to forgive and forget — for that he could not do. 
I have made my bed and will lie in it; whether hard 
or soft, it is of my own making. I have told you all 
that I ever will tell. I am sorry for the wrong I have 
done my husband, but it is now not in my power to 
make reparation. He despises me, as it is natural he 
should, and I love not him, but another. Our ways lie 
in different directions. I wish him no harm, but also 
wish to never see him again. My devotion continues 
for Captain Brannan and I will shield and protect him 
with , my life, if necessary. 

“ ‘I do not know by what means I have been en- 
snared into this trap, or how you knew my history, or 
how Stephen Pye appears here. I only know that it 
is not me you want, and that the one you seek is gone 
whither I know not. If I ever know, it will be my 
own secret, and no power on earth could tear it from 
me. Allow me now to depart.’ She arose and turned 
toward the door. 

“ ‘Stay,’ I cried. ‘My only chance to find the scoun- 
drel who so foully betrayed my friendship is through 


100 


HELENA. 


you. I will not lose sight of you, much as I loathe 
your presence.’ 

“Your thought is unwise. As long as you watch 
me I will warn and prevent Captain Brannan from 
coming near me. Your chance of finding him is best 
when you lose trace of me.’ ” 

“ YVoman,’ said the fortune-teller, ‘you can go.’ ” 
With a grasp of his hand, he restrained my impulse 
to follow her rapid exit from the room. 

‘ “I know where she lives. My agents will shadow 
her every movement. The servant at her apartments has 
been bribed by my peddler to report all that occurs. 
I was not certain from what I could first learn that 
this woman was your missing wife; hence I instructed 
my confederate to gain access to her presence in his 
guise as a peddler, and from time to time tell her won- 
derful stories of my locating absent ones. She expects 
to hear from him afterwhile, but is impatient to rejoin 
him at once. My agent worked upon her superstitions 
until she agreed to make me a visit; the results you 
have witnessed.’ 

“Soon after this Mr. Askew was seized with violent 
illness. My constant attention was required at his 
bedside. I had become greatly attached to this singu- 
lar being. In my hour of destitution he had provided 
me with food and shelter, and zealously interested him- 
self in the work of discovering the destroyer of my 
home. The physician whom I summoned did all in 
his power to check the disease, but in vain. He grew 
worse day by day. At the end of a week the doctor 
told me, in answer to my anxious inquiries, that re- 


y 


THE MISSING WIFE FOUND. 


lOI 


covery was impossible, and that he could survive, at 
best, only a few days longer. That night, as I took 
my seat to watch and minister as I best I could, the 
sick man told me that he knew his condition, and fully 
realized that his earthly hours were numbered. 

'' 'My friend,’ he continued, T wish you to listen 
now to what I have to say, as I may not be able after 
this to hold converse. I feel that the end is very 
near. There will be none to mourn for me, unless it 
be you, who have ministered with such self-sacrificing 
devotion during the days and nights of this sickness. 
So far as I know, I have no kindred living. I was cast 
adrift in my childhood, and have been a wanderer all 
my life. I have no remembrance of parents or home. 
My earliest recollection is of an orphans’ home. I 
have told you at different times of the varied experi- 
ences of my life, and there is nothing more of interest 
to communicate now, except to tell you of my pos- 
sessions and the disposition I have made of them. I 
have accumulated ten thousand dollars, which is in- 
vested in six per cent. Government bonds. This I 
have hoarded to provide against the wants of age. 
I shall have no use for it, and I have made such dispo- 
sition of it as is most agreeable to my wishes. In the 
short period of our acquaintance I have formed a great 
liking for you. The other day, while you, at my urg- 
ing, took a long walk in the fresh air, I sent for a 
lawyer and witnesses, and executed a will, giving to 
you everything I possess. You will find the will and 
the bonds in the iron chest in the corner of this room. 
No one can dispute your right to take possession of 


i02 


HELENA. 


all that the poor old fortune-teller leaves behind him. 
You have learned my profession, and with all the para- 
phernalia, mystic symbols, and devices at your com- 
mand, you can pursue your mission, with better 
chances of success, than in any other way. I am 
glad that in these last weeks I have found one who' 
has ministered so kindly in my great need, and that I 
am able to do now what will serve him well, after I am 
gone. In addition to the bonds in the chest, you will 
find sufficient gold coin to pay the physician and all 
my funeral expenses.’ ” 

The tears were raining down my cheeks; I could 
not speak. There was no selfish feeling in my heart. 
My distress at the thought of his death was over- 
whelming. The impression that he had anything to 
will, or, if he had, of his willing it to me, had never 
entered my mind. I cannot dwell upon this scene. 
When I could control my voice I talked long, earn- 
estly and lovingly to him, and I prayed as I never 
prayed before, or since, that his life might be spared. 
As the night advanced he fell into a sleep. In less 
than an hour he awoke and seemed much worse. I 
dispatched a messenger for the physician, who arrived 
in a few minutes. All that the arts of medicine and 
loving hands could do were done, but my strange 
friend and unexpected benefactor never spoke again. 
Shortly after midnight he breathed his last. I pass 
over the details of the funeral and of my great grief. 

The peddler was now my confederate. Through him 
I gained a little information indicating that Captain 
Brannan had gone West. Feeling certain that he 


the missing wife found. 


iOi 


would never return to C , I packed up all the 

possessions of my late friend, and, being now pro- 
vided with sufficient income, used economically, to 
provide for my wants, and to travel, I again set out 
in quest of the fugitive. My shrewd ally kept close 
watch on Madeline’s movements, and, under promise 
of liberal reward, he was to report -to me all that might 
occur. I kept him advised of my address; I wandered 
from place to place for several months, occasionally 
using my disguise as a fortune-teller, which proved a 
source of revenue and kept me from encroaching upon 
the principal bequeathed to me. I heard at intervals 
from my peddler-spy, but nothing of importance de- 
veloped until after the lapse of two years. 

A letter came from my agent, stating that Madeline 

had suddenly left C , and her destination was 

Lawrence, as he had learned from the servant girl 
living with her. It chanced that at the time of re- 
ceiving this message I was in the State in which Law- 
rence was situated, and could reach the town soon 
after Madeline’s arrival. I was sure she had gone 
there for the purpose of meeting or finding Captain 
Brannan, and I hastened to the place. I was so thor- 
oughly disguised that I had no fear of her recognizing 
me if we should meet. As Lawrence was not a large 
place, I soon discovered her presence. I kept a close 
watch on her movements, but in such a way as not to 
arouse suspicions that she was being observed. The 
second evening after my arrival, just before dark, 
she left her lodgings and walked out of town in the 
direction of the neighboring town of Fremont. I kept 


104 


H£LENA. 


her in view, but remained at such a distance as not 
to attract her attention. About half a mile out a man 
came, meeting her. They stopped and conversed 
for some time, and then came together towards the 
town. I stepped behind a tree on the roadside, and 
as they passed I heard but one word, '‘Cairo.” I fol- 
lowed them. On reaching the edge of the town they 
separated. No one saw them except myself, arid 
neither of them saw me. I kept the man in view until, 
in the centre of the town, he suddenly turned into an 
open doorway, leading, as I discovered, to a hall used 
for secret lodge meetings. When I reached the en- 
trance to the stairway, the man had disappeared in 
the hall above. I was in a quandary as to how to 
proceed. 

I believed the man was Captain Brannan; still I 
was not certain. My determination was to wreak 
sudden and terrible vengeance the moment I met him, 
but I felt I must act cautiously, so as not to make any 
mistake. After consideration, I concluded to station 
myself near the stairway and wait for the breaking up 
of the lodge meeting. About ten o’clock twenty or 
twenty-five men came out. They separated in groups, 
some going in one direction, some in another. I 
peered into every face, but, as there was no light in the 
entrance, and not even any starlight that night, I did 
not recognize any one bearing resemblance to the ob- 
ject of my search. 

I walked past the house where Madeline was stay- 
ing, and seeing everything dark, and no signs of any 
one being up, I went to my room at the hotel resolved 


THE MISSING WIFE FOUND. 


10 $ 


to be out early and on the alert. I felt satisfied that 
if Captain Brannan was located near, I could not fail 
to find him, and I preferred to meet him face to face 
in the day light. On reflection I was glad I missed rec- 
ognizing him, if, indeed, he was among those departing 
from the hall. Being among friends, he would have 
been protected and my efforts for vengeance frus- 
trated. The next morning as I sauntered along the 
street I saw a negro servant leave the house where 
Madeline was lodging. I fell in with him and made 
some inquiries about the town. After a while I asked 
him if a lady had not recently become a boarder in the 
house he just came out of. 

‘Yes, boss,’ he said, ‘a lady cum dere a few days 
ago; but she dun gone now, sah.’ 

“ ‘Gone! why, I saw her last night.’ 

“ ‘She dere las’ night, boss, but she not dere dis 
mawning.’ 

“ ‘When did she leave and where did she go?’ I 
asked this question as carelessly as I could, not wish- 
ing to show any special interest, but I was greatly ex- 
cited. From my observations I knew there was but 
one boarder in that house, and that he could be speak- 
ing of no other than the person I was shadowing. 

“ ‘De lady went out las’ ebening, and when she 
cum back, told de folks dat de country friends she 
’spected to meet here had cum to town and she was 
gwine home with ’em.’ 

“I was dumfounded at hearing this. The negro 
noticed my look of discomfiture and asked: 

“ ‘Did you know de lady?’ 


io6 


HELENA. 


'No/ I said impatiently. 

" ‘I’se sorry, boss/ he responded, with a sly wink, 
‘dat she got away ’fore you had a chance to make er 
mash. She was mighty ’tractive lookin’ gal, sure and 
sartin.’ 

“I was willing for him to think I was only seeking 
an amour, and said no more. 

“I was not long in ascertaining beyond all doubt 
that Madeline had left Lawrence. I knew her too well 
to entertain for a moment the thought of her going 
without being accompanied by the man she had met. 
I reasoned that some plan of meeting had been ar- 
ranged. I remembered now that I heard the word 
‘Cairo.’ With this clew I considered what course they 
would take to reach that point. It would be impossible 
for them to go by a steamboat from Lawrence with- 
out its being known. It was a long distance to the 
nearest railroad station on line running to Cairo. I 
concluded to go to this station and see what I could 
discover. On reaching it I learned from the ticket 
agent that a woman answering the description I gave 
of Madeline had purchased a ticket to Cairo. The 
man had probably boarded the train without a ticket, 
to escape recognition, or had gone to another station. 
I was satisfied that if Madeline had gone to Cairo the 
one I specially sought would be there, too. I started 
on the next train for Cairo. On arriving there, care- 
ful inquiry convinced me that Madeline, accompanied 
by a man, had landed on the preceding train. They 
had stopped at a restaurant and lodging house near 
the depot, but had departed only a short time before 


THE MISSING WIFE FOUND. lO/ 

I reached the house. In conversation with the pro- 
prietor I gained sufficient points to convince me that 
the man was none other than Captain Brannan. I 
could find no further trace until, some six weeks later, 
I entered a cheap boarding house, where the same two 
had lodged. The landlady’s description of the woman 
was so exact that I knew there could be no mistake. 
I learned that the man had been drinking heavily all 
the time, had spent everything he had and both were 
in a state of complete destitution. I was informed by 
the landlady that when they left a week previous they 
were simply vagabonds, and the only shelter they were 
likely to secure would be in deserted barns or stables — 
that if I wished to find them I need not look in any 
other places. The landlady spoke of a peculiar liver- 
colored mark on the left wrist of the man. It was a 
birthmark. I had often observed such a mark on Cap- 
tain Brannan. It was mostly hid by the cuffs he wore, 
but in his present destitution has was cuffless, and the 
mark would not escape observation. This mark was 
so peculiar in shape and appearance that when it was 
accurately described I knew beyond all doubt the 
identity of Madeline’s companion. My search was re- 
newed with great diligence. I gloated over the desti- 
tution and suffering of the guilty wretches, but I was 
not satisfied. I had vowed to hunt him to the death. 
Days and nights I spent in the slums eagerly follow- 
ing everything that indicated a clew. Months passed. 
The exposure to which I subjected myself at last 
brought on a severe attack of rheumatism. For more 
than a year I was confined to my bed, and for three 


io8 


HELENA. 


years longer I was unable to do more than barely move 
about the house in which I had secured board and 
lodging. After five years’ confinement I began to 
mend, and by the end of six years was restored to my 
former strength. Again the old passion stirred in my 
heart. I resolved to do at once what I was on the 
point of doing when stricken down with disease; 
namely, return to Lawrence and see what I could learn 
of the life of Captain Brannan previous to the night 
on which he and Madeline had fled to Cairo. A few 
months ago I visited that locality and became con- 
versant with a most remarkable history up to a cer- 
tain point. In order to solve the sequel I have come to 
this place.” 

Herman Clark had listened with close attention dur- 
ing the long recital, and as Stephen Pye paused, he 
said: 

“Am I right in conjecturing that this remarkable 
history has some connection with Mrs. Brannan, who 
recently came to Corinth?” 

“Yes. I know more of her history than she knows 
herself. As you are sworn to secrecy and pledged to 
aid me in my project, I will tell you the strange dis- 
covery I made on visiting Lawrence. You remember 
I told you about Madeline meeting a man on the road 
leading to Fremont. This was a small town only four 
miles from Lawrence. On making inquiries I learned 
that a Captain Brannan had lived at Fremont, but had 
suddenly disappeared a few years ago. At Fremont 
I easily ascertained all the particulars. In comparing 
dates, it was clear to me that y^ry soon after Captain 


THE MISSING WIFE FOUND. 


109 


Brannan had deserted Madeline on discovering my 
presence in C he had landed in the town of Fre- 

mont and opened a law office. Having ability and be- 
ing prepossessing in appearance he soon became well 
acquainted with the people. In a short time his at- 
tentions were directed toward a Mrs. Gardiner, a 
widow, with an only daughter, about twelve years of 
age, who was then absent at school. It appears that 
the mother of this widow was then living amd favored 
his addresses. After a brief courtship the marriage 
took place. For nearly a year to all appearances they 
lived happily together. One afternoon he told his 
wife that he was going over to Lawrence to attend a 
lodge meeting that night, that he might be late in re- 
turning and that she need not be uneasy. He kissed 
her good-bye and started for Lawrence. The wife 
was not alarmed when he failed to return that night, 
concluding that he had remained with some friend and 
would be home in the morning. As the day advanced, 
she became uneasy, and a messenger was despatched 
to Lawrence, who brought back the intelligence that 
Captain Brannan had attended the lodge meeting 
and separated from his friends about ten o’clock to 
return home, as they supposed. Days, weeks and 
months passed, but not the slightest trace of Captain 
Brannan dead or alive was discovered. A few thought 
that he had deserted his wife, but the general belief 
accorded with the wife’s opinion, that he had acci- 
dentally fallen from a rude bridge spanning a deep 
and rapid stream, and over which he would have to 
pass on his way home. Every effort was made to find 


I lO 


HELENA. 


the body. You now know from my story why the 
search was fruitless. On hearing all these particu- 
lars, I could easily understand the mysterious meeting 
and disappearance at Lawrence. There could be no 
doubt but Madeline had in some way learned of his 
living with another woman at Fremont, and she had 
come to Lawrence and notified him that if he did not 
meet her there she would appear at his home and ex- 
pose him. She evidently received reply telling her 
where and on what night to meet him. It is now ap- 
proaching seven years since his disappearance, and 
under the laws of this State, as I understand, the widow 
or supposed widow will be entitled to receive the life 
insurance money. Mrs. Brannan is innocent of all 
wrong, and I am not interested in defeating her claim, 
but I am just now pursuing a clew by which I hope to 
bring the dead back to life. Ah! if I succeed, it will 
be a short life and one more bitter, more cruel than the 
grave.’' 

As he uttered these words, the light of an insatiable 
vengeance shone in his eyes. 

“What is the nature of this clew?” asked Mr. Clark. 

“Sometime ago I obtained a roster of Captain Bran- 
nan’s company, and I have written to all whose ad- 
dresses I could learn, inquiring if they had seen or 
heard lately of the captain of their company. Re- 
cently I received a letter from one who was in his 
company, stating that at a soldiers’ reunion in Spring- 
field he met a comrade of this same company, who 
told him that he had seen Captain Brannan only a few 
months ago — the comrade was certain it was their gid 


THE MISSING WIFE FOUND. 


1 1 1 


captain, although he was now known by another name. 
The writer had forgotten the name of the place where 
this comrade now lived, but he knew that he had at 
one time resided in Henderson county, near Corinth, 
and that his name was Alfred Gibson. Now, if you 
can assist me in finding anyone who can furnish in- 
formation concerning the present address of Gibson, 
you will do me a great service.” 

‘T know every family in this county, and if Gibson 
has a relative, friend or correspondent in this section 
I will find it out.” 


HELENA. 


1 12 


CHAPTER XI. 

THE OLD MAIDS* CLUB. 

‘‘For who would bear the whips and thorns of doubt, 

The oppressor’s wrong, the old maid’s contumely. 

The pangs of untold love, the priest’s delay. 

The insolence of rivals, and the sneers 
That bachelors from womankind must take — 

But that the dread of something after marriage, 

That yet untried condition, from whose bonds 
No victim can be freed, puzzles the will. 

And makes us rather bear the life we have 
Than risk another that we know not of!” 

— Watson. 

Shortly after Miss Gardiner returned from her 
visit to Miss Barnard a social party was arranged for 
at the home of Judge Triston. The commodious and 
elegantly furnished dwelling afforded comfortable ac- 
commodation for a large gathering. A number of the 
acquaintances Miss Gardiner had made during her re- 
cent visit were invited, together with a much larger 
number of her friends in Corinth. Among the former 
were Herman Clark, John Gage, James St. Clair, Lena 
Barnard and Lizzie Gage, and among the latter were 
Harry Thorne, Harvey St. Clair, Frank Burton and 
Rose German. The last named has been only inci- 


THE OLD maids’ CLUB. 


II3 

dentally mentioned heretofore, but deserves a more 
formal introduction. She was not only a very hand- 
some blonde, but a bright and witty conversationalist. 
She had special talent in two lines. She was a fine 
singer and an adept in getting up amateur theatricals, 
cantatas and the like. At every gathering she was the 
life of the party, and always looked to as the general- 
issimo of all procedures. It was only since the arrival 
in Corinth of Miss Gardiner that the fair Rose had 
found a rival in the honors of leadership. There was, 
however, no envy or jealousy between them. They 
became at once the most intimate and loving friends, 
and the greatest pleasure to each was in doing the 
other honor. In a spirit of jest these two, in connec- 
tion with Lena Barnard and Lizzie Gage, had selected 
five other young ladies of about their own age and 
formed what they called the ''club of nine old maids.” 
None of them had yet crossed the dead line of twenty- 
five, and they could therefore afford to jest upon the 
subject. The club was formed soon after the ac- 
quaintance was made at the fortune-teller’s cabin, and 
several meetings had been held at the houses of mem- 
bers. Mysterious rumors had floated out to the ears 
of their young gentlemen acquaintances of the sad and 
forlorn proceedings of these secret and melancholy 
gatherings. Judge Triston, who was in full sympathy 
with all the gayeties and sport of the young people, 
announced that the party at his house was not only 
given in honor of his guest. Miss Gardiner, but also 
in honor of the "Old Maids’ Club,” 


HELENA. 


1 14 

At the time designated, a very large company as- 
sembled. The early part of the evening was spent in 
informal musical and literary performances, in which 
Rose shone as a charming songstress and Katie as an 
accomplished reader. Others contributed vocally and 
instrumentally, and an hour was delightfully passed in 
this way. Then the party resolved itself into a con- 
versation club, with the understanding that, one at a 
time of the company should be selected by ballot, who 
would be required to announce a subject and for at 
least five minutes test his or her colloquial powers in 
entertaining, while all the rest remained attentive lis- 
teners. The first ballot taken resulted in a large ma- 
jority for Rose. Her ready wit and intelligence never 
failed to extricate her creditably. She arose and an- 
nounced as her subject: “Old Maids; or, What is the 
Matter With Us?’^ 

“My theme is suggested by a recent occurrence in 
one of the meetings of our club of nine old maids. 
While we were commenting on our ‘lone and lorn 
estate,’ it was mentioned that a certain lady, known 
to all of us as exceedingly homely, aged, unprepos- 
sessing and unattractive to the last degree, was about 
to be married. Our astonishment found expression in 
this exclamation of one of our number, ‘Good Lord! 
What is the matter with us?’ 

“On hearing of the commotion aroused in our meet- 
ing, Mr. John Gage sent to us the following original 
and consoling poem, entitled, ' 


THE OLD maids’ CLUB. 


115 


‘ WHAT’S THE MATTER WITH US ? 

‘‘ There’s nine old maids of renown 
Ranging in age, from forty down, 

All living in style in or near Corinth town. 

With a smile for all, for none a frown. 

They each have trouble, but no trouble with beaux ; 
Neither Lena, Lizzie, Lulie nor Rose. 

There’s Eleanor, Grace, Katie and Carrie 

Vow and declare not, but they each want to marry. 

And Sallie still single ! Oh, dear, what a pity ! 

She sighs at the good luck of some in the city. 

When they hear of the marriage of another old maid. 
They have a called meeting and begin to upbraid 
John, James, Harry, Herman, Harvey or Gus 
For running away with some other girl 
And leaving all nine of them still in a muss. 

With eyebrows to reblacken and hair to recurl. 

Indeed ’tis enough to make any maid fuss. 

And they yell out together, 

‘ Others can marry, what’s the matter with us ?’ ” 

“With this introduction, I now proceed to answer 
the momentous question, What is the matter with us? 
This is no idle question. The fact is, we have no idol, 
and in one sense that is what’s the matter with us; and 
because we are the idol of no one suggests the question 
before us, and to its solution I now ‘all my powers 
engage.’ We are nine old maids, and will take an in- 
ventory of stock on hand to see if we can thereby 
learn what’s the matter with us. To begin at the 
ground, floor, we have nine pair of feet. Look at 
them. They are of well assorted sizes. It seems to 
us that any taste might be suited. In corns and bun- 


HELENA. 


Il6 

ions we have no more than the usual crop. Surely 
the defect cannot lie so near the foundation. Why, 
the Chicago girl who went out to shoot a rusty load 
from her brother’s pistol, and who, in a thoughtless 
mood, only aimed a yard in front of her, and thereby 
shot through the middle of her foot, she got married. 
With us, in the matter of feet, there is no lack, no 
deficiency. That’s not what’s the matter with us. 
Next, we have nine pair of hands. Do they not com- 
pare favorably with any other nine pair that you can 
pick out from those who have worn the coveted wed- 
ding ring? What is the matter with our forefingers? 
Would they not grace the pledge of longed-for bliss? 
Yes, our hands are fair and comely, oft employed in 
deeds of kindness and usefulness; and, besides, we 
occasionally wash them — always after shaking hands 
with a man. Surely there is nothing the matter with 
our hands; and the question still remains. What is the 
matter with us? Nine mouths; ah! here is a wide 
open subject for contemplation and investigation. As 
to size, they come within the regulation standard. And 
the teeth, they are all good. We know that, for we 
paid a good price for them. The St. Louis girl, who 
had to be reminded by the dentist, when she opened 
her mouth, that he did not wish to stand inside, got 
married. That makes it clear that the mouth is not 
what’s the matter with us. Nine pair of ruby lips! 
innocent of contamination with lips tainted by tobacco, 
cloves, and the like, and nine tongues — whew! here is 
quantity, quality and variety — all degrees of volubility, 
and every kind of tongue except the short and slow. 


THE OLD MAIDS* CLUB. 


117 


If you once heard us in our meetings you would not 
accuse us of being deficient in tongue. No, no, we 
are not lacking in this commodity, and want of tongue 
is not what’s the matter with us. Nine pair of eyes— 
dark, blue, gray, brown — all the standard colors repre- 
sented — neither short-sighted nor cross-eyed, but 
bright, liquid, and as capable of looking love as any 
eyes in the market; no drawback in the eyesight — 
that’s not what’s the matter with us. Nine pair of 
ears, all perfect — could hear a whispered proposal at 
almost any distance. Nine heads, with more or less 
in them and on them — waving tresses, light and dark, 
all of good quality, as can be certified by the mer- 
chant from whom same was obtained. 

^‘Now, you have the inventory from foot to head, 
and what is the result? Why, we know — have seen 
for ourselves — that many with feet as big, with hands 
as dir — clean, with mouths as wide, with lips as in- 
nocent, with tongues as long, with eyes as bright, 
with ears as open, with tresses as waving, and with 
heads as empt — full, I mean, as ours, have got mar- 
ried just as easy as anything. Yet, alas! we are not 
taken. Oh, Lord, what is the matter with us? 

“Well, as our charms of form and person cannot be 
gainsaid, and as others not half so fair and prepos- 
sessing have got there, the trouble must be in some 
other direction. 

“Let us take a look at our accomplishments: First, 
then, as to our colloquial powers. No more, perhaps, 
need be said than was hinted at under the head of 
tongue. As for talking, we simply recognize no su- 


iiB 


HELENA. 


perior, and challenge the world to produce our equal. 
The armless sleeves, the worn and haggard faces of 
those around us, all bear incontestable evidence of our 
proficiency as talkers. So that’s not what’s the mat- 
ter with us. Then, too, among us is to be found the 
elocutionist, with talking eyes and all the arts of mod- 
ulated voice. Added to the natural charms above 
enumerated, such accomplishments of art ought to be 
irresistible. Alas! alas! alas! Good Lord, what is the 
matter with us? Again, among us are to be found 
the charming musicians, who might move the very 
soul of Love with their exquisite instrumental and 
vocal accomplishments; and yet those who cannot 
sing a lullaby (one of the first requisites of that state 
for which we pine) get married. Oh, it makes us sing 
out in mournful strains. What is the matter with us? 

“Well, to sum it all up: our inventory shows that 
the trouble is not in lack of personal charms nor of 
accomplishments. We have feet and hands, heads and 
tongues, and we walk and talk, sing and laugh a good 
deal like others, and we think a good deal better than 
many others, who have nothing the matter with them. 
Then it cannot be on account of defects, for those far 
more defective get a free pass and hearty welcome into 
the glorious Beulahland. If it is not in the defects, as 
we have clearly established, then there is but one 
other thing that can be the matter with us — and that 
is our virtues. 

“Ah! here, at last is the true answer to the mo- 
mentous question: Our charms and character and 
person are of that finer mould which awakens no re- 


THE OLD maids' CLUB. 


119 


sponse in the coarse and less refined natures around 
us. What is the matter with us? Simply this: our 
inestimable worth is unappreciated; we live in a realm 
so high, exalted and pure that we are not understood 
by the common herd, and our only hope for affinity 
and appreciation is in Heaven, where there is neither 
marriage nor giving in marriage.'’ 

Great applause greeted the close of Rose German’s 
impromptu speech. A general talk followed, in which 
all who could get attention took part. In a little while 
the theme was voted exhausted, and another ballot 
was taken, resulting in the selection of Katie Gardiner 
as the next speaker. She was not prepared with a 
subject, but, reflecting a moment, the incident at the 
fortune-teller’s cabin occurred to her mind, and she 
arose and stated her subject: “Fortune-Telling; or 
the Shrewd Trick of a Bachelor.” 

“To illustrate my theme, I will relate a story. Once 
upon a time, in company with some friends, who are 
present here, I visited a fortune-teller, living on the 
cliff near by. We found others there, who are also 
present to-night. I am, therefore, not without wit- 
nesses to the truth of my narrative. My fortune was 
told. The seer readily found for me what I had never 
been able to find for myself — a man. According to 
his views, there is nothing the matter with me. He 
described the one who was shortly to appear and 
rescue me from the Old Maids’ Glub, and even went 
so far as to give the initials of his name. Here the 
shrewd trick of the bachelor comes in. One of the 


120 


HELENA. 


gentlemen present laid claim not only to the descrip- 
tion, but also to the initials.” 

As she said this a mischievous smile overspread 
her face. She delighted to tease. The part Herman 
Clark had played she regarded simply as a pleasantry 
and a good joke on his part. To her mind there Avas 
no significance in the words of the fortune-teller, and 
nothing in the incident except the fun to be extracted 
from it. 

“Now,” she continued, as she took up a card from 
the centre-table, “here is the evidence in the case. On 
one side of this card is written the words of the seer, 
describing my coming Romeo, with a bracketed ref- 
erence to the other side for his name. Shall I read 
it?” 

“Yes; by all means!” exclaimed a dozen voices. 

Miss Gardiner looked quizzically at Mr. Clark, who 
was quietly laughing, and who nodded for her to pro- 
ceed. He knew that the card had been changed, but 
was sure from her manner that she was unaware of 
it, and he was anticipating a surprise, which he hoped 
to use to his advantage. 

“Listen, then: ‘He is of fine personal appearance; 
nearly six feet in height, and well proportioned; wears 
a full beard and mustache; has regular features, deep 
blue eyes, dark hair and fair complexion. There are 
signs of trouble, but light appears behind the shadows, 
which augurs a happy conclusion afterwhile. (For 
initials see other side.)’ 

“Attention, all, now! I will reverse the card and 
read the name of the scheming bachelor. She turned 


THE OLD MAIDS’ CLUB. 


I2I 


it over and read aloud the name, 'Harvey St. Clair.’ 
The card dropped from her trembling fingers; it was 
not the name she expected to read. Blank amaze- 
ment was pictured on her face. 

"What is the meaning of this?” exclaimed Harry 
Thorne. "You said it was the name of one present 
that night at the cabin on the cliff. I was there, but 
did not see Harvey St. Clair.” 

"I do not understand it,” said Miss Gardiner in 
great confusion, picking up the card and looking at 
it intently. "I certainly saw a different name when I 
looked at it before.” 

"Mr. St. Clair is a very shrewd jester, indeed!” 
sneered Herman Clark. "Doubtless he can explain 
the forgery, if, as you say, the card has been changed.” 

The hot blood mounted to St. Clair’s face at these 
words. He darted an angry glance at Clark, but, re- 
straining himself, addressed his words to Miss Gardi- 
ner: 

"I am as greatly surprised as you are. When you 
read my name I was dumfounded. I cannot imagine 
how that writing appears on one of my cards. 
Whether so written by accident or design, it was with- 
out my knowledge or consent.” 

"I am satisfied of that,” replied Miss Gardiner. She 
recognized in the expression of his face and tone of 
voice perfect sincerity and truthfulness. She had now 
regained composure. "Perhaps the fortune-teller has 
found means of making the substitution to further 
mystify us. The exchange, however made, has only 
added zest to the amusing incident. Let us think no 


122 


HELENA. 


more about it. The whole matter is of no conse- 
quence — only a good joke all around. I see Mrs. 
Triston is waiting for us to repair to the refreshment 
room, and I move that the Conversation Club imme- 
diately transform itself into an eating club.’^ 

During the remainder of the evening Miss Gardi- 
ner showed no trace of annoyance at what had oc- 
curred. She seemed not to have thought of it again. 
But when the company had departed she retired to 
the privacy of her own room, and, sitting down, mused 
long and seriously over the affair. She had left the 
card on the table in the parlor, but she remembered 
every word, and knew it was precisely the same she 
had read to her mother the next day after the visit 
to the cabin on the cliff, and that the name on the re- 
verse side was Herman S. Clark. Now, there was an- 
other name, and for the first time it occurred to her 
that the capital letters were the same ; now she remem- 
bered, too, that the letters “S” and “C” as arranged 
on the chart were close together. The name of Har- 
vey St. Clair certainly answered for both description 
and initials. An incredulous smile arose as she asked 
herself if there could be any significance in the strange 
fortune told. She was not superstitious, still she felt 
an interest in musing over the matter. She had 
scarcely given it a thought before. From her first in- 
troduction to St. Clair, when presented by her friend, 
Harry Thorne, shortly after his locating in Corinth, 
she had experienced a friendly interest and pleasure 
in his acquaintance. No thought of love had ob- 
truded itself at any time, but as their intimacy in- 


THE OLD MAIDS* CLUB. 


123 


creased, he being a frequent visitor at the house, the 
attraction had imperceptibly increased. Now the in- 
cidents of the evening called her attention to him in 
such a way as to cause her to analyze her sentiments 
towards him. She had seen more of Mr. Clark than 
of St. Clair, but while she regarded the former as very 
pleasant and agreeable company, it now occurred to 
her mind that he did not impress her so congenially 
in tastes and thoughts as did Mr. St. Clair. With 
such thoughts, vague and undefined as to any decided 
impressions concerning her two admirers, she sought 
her couch for the few remaining hours of the night 
and soon fell into the undisturbed repose befitting a 
heart-free member of the Old Maid’s Club. 

While the guests of Judge Triston were regaling 
themselves with the ample refreshments in the dining 
room, Harry Thorne found an opportunity to reach 
the parlor unobserved, take from the centre-table 
Harvey St. Clair’s card and to replace the one he had 
taken bearing the name of Herman S. Clark. 


124 


HELENA. 


CHAPTER XII. 

THE DROMIO LOVERS. 

‘‘Of all the torments, all the cares, 

With which our lives are curst; 

Of all the plagues a lover bears. 

Sure rivals are the worst ! 

By partners in each other kind, 

Afflictions easier grow ; 

In love alone we hate to find 
Companions of our woe.” 

— Walsh, 

During the following six or seven weeks both Clark 
and St. Clair were regular callers upon Miss Gardiner. 
They seldom met at Judge Triston’s house, but in 
the instances when it did occur they showed a courte- 
ous and polite friendliness of manner. Clark was even 
cordial, and deported himself as though he was meet- 
ing his dearest friend. To all appearances they were 
like old friends visiting a mutual friend. Each knew 
that the other was trying to win the special favor of 
Miss Gardiner, but no reference to this was ever in 
any way made to each other, or by either to others. 
Katie, of course, was not insensible to the fact that 
she was an object of interest to both. But as their 
attentions were confined to purely social and friendly 
intercourse, she enjoyed the company of either, and 


THE DROMIO LOVERS. 


125 


politely accepted whichever proffered himself as escort 
to church, parties, concerts or in drives over the ex- 
cellent pikes for a simple pleasure ride, or in visits to 
the Gages, Barnards, or other friends. 

One evening as Mrs. Brannan observed her daugh- 
ter dressing for reception of company, she smilingly 
asked: 

“Which one is it this time, Katie? You appear as 
well pleased and expectant for one as the other. I 
have been vainly trying to discover which of your two 
special admirers you prefer as company.” 

“And have you seen no difference in the care I be- 
stow upon my toilet, or in the cordiality of my smiles 
or demeanor?” 

“Not the slightest.” 

“Well, I am glad of that. Do you know, mother, 
I have designated Mr. St. Clair and Mr. Clark as my 
Dromio lovers, and I am trying to find out which is 
which?” 

“I am sure they are very unlike. Your Dromio of 
Corinth and your Dromio of Memphis have very little 
personal resemblance.” 

“You forget the fortune-teller’s words, which, 
though originally written on Mr. Clark’s card, were 
so mysteriously transferred to that of Mr. St. Clair. 
The capital letters in their names are the same; eyes 
and hair of like color; height and weight closely cor- 
responding, and both wearing full beard and mus- 
tache. The seer said that my fate was about to ap- 
pear, and lo! these two came simultaneously. How 


126 


HELENA. 


am I to tell which is my destiny until a fuller revela- 
tion is made to my waiting consciousness?” 

“Yes; I had forgotten all about that foolishness, and 
supposed you had, too. I see you have a very grave 
problem to solve,” laughingly replied Mrs. Brannan. 
“But you have not told me which Dromio you are 
expecting this evening?” 

“It is Mr. Clark. We are going for a call upon Rose 
German, to enjoy her delightful singing and charming 
company.” 

“Well, your own discernment will have to solve the 
remarkable obscurity of the seer’s words. Mr. St. 
Clair made the most favorable impression upon me at 
first, but latterly I have been, at least, equally im- 
pressed with Mr. Clark.” 

“As to the deliverance of the fortune-teller, that 
was a mere coincidence, and exerts no influence over 
my mind. The accidental humor of the affair alone 
causes me to remember it. While the initials and 
some points of physique are the same, there is no re- 
semblance in features or in thoughts and tastes. St. 
Clair is poetical in nature, full of bright fancies, and 
he soars with vivid imagination into the realms of 
philosophy, while Clark is matter-of-fact, and deals 
only in prose when discussing the problems and condi- 
tions of life.” 

“Are not the unimaginative the most practical and 
useful?” 

“Oh, I may find that my Dromio of Corinth has 
just enough of poetry to sweeten and make endurable 
the hard realities of life, and not so much as to in- 


THE DROMIO LOVERS. 


127 


terfere with its practical and severe duties,” replied 
Katie, with a gay laugh, as she started for the parlor 
to receive her Dromio of Memphis, whose arrival had 
just been announced. 

It chanced that the contemplated visit to Rose 
German had to be deferred. She had not been in- 
formed of the proposed call, and was not at home when 
Clark and Katie reached her house. The evening 
being too cool for a pleasure stroll, they returned, and 
enjoyed an uninterrupted evening’s conversation in 
the parlor. This was especially agreeable to Clark. 
While often in each other’s company, it was seldom 
that they had been together when others were not 
present or near by. Katie’s lively disposition inclined 
her to regard three or more as company, while two 
savored of dullness. It had been her suggestion that 
on Mr. Clark’s next call they would pay Rose a visit, 
to which he had, of course, politely agreed, although 
secretly disappointed. Now seated by her side, with 
the whole evening before them, Clark strove to ap- 
pear to the best advantage; and Katie, remembering 
the conversation with her mother, gave her attention 
to mentally comparing the matter-of-fact and practical 
Dromio with the imaginative and poetical one. 

The conversation touched upon many topics of 
literature and religion. The reading of both was ex- 
tensive and varied. Katie had rightly judged from 
previous intercourse that Clark was not of the imag- 
inative turn. His observations always bore upon the 
practical conditions of life. He was severe in his 
condemnation of every phase of evil, and strong in hi§ 


128 


HELENA. 


commendation of virtue. Perhaps, he really believed 
all he said. Many sincerely believe that sin is sin 
and ought to be avoided, yet follow it unhesitatingly, 
regularly, and even systematically. It is not intended 
to delineate Clark’s character, but to leave the events 
as recorded in this true history to disclose to the 
reader its real nature. Whatever of evil there was, 
none was suggested by his words when speaking 
about vice or virtue. The former was never winked 
at and the latter never sneered at. He never expressed 
doubts of the truth of any orthodox tenets. Many 
have honest misgivings about doctrines universally 
upheld by the advocates of Christianity; if he had 
any misgivings he did not express them. As has been 
stated, Katie possessed a religious nature. She rev- 
erenced God in the joys of life, as well as in its duties; 
her pleasures were pure, and her delight in them was 
a part of her enjoyment of God’s goodness and love. 
Serious and solemn experiences of life did not more 
remind her of religious obligations than did the gay 
and happy ones. Like a loving child of a true and 
noble father, who cherishes for that father the same 
sentiments of love in its hours of play as it does at all 
other times; that was Katie’s idea of her Heavenly 
Father at all times. To such a nature the discourse 
of Mr. Clark could not be otherwise than agreeable. 

The discussion of moral themes continued for a 
considerable time — during which a very favorable im- 
pression was made upon the mind of our heroine — 
when the subject was changed by her relating the 
dream she had had concerning her uncle. Mr. Clark 


THE DROMIO LOVERS. 


129 


was much interested in the recital, and commented 
freely upon the strange features of the vision. 

“Were you not influenced to make an effort to com- 
municate with your uncle?” he asked. 

“Yes; I wrote a letter addressed to him at Phila- 
delphia, but it was returned to me, in accordance with 
instructions on the envelope, if not called for in ten 
days. Here is the letter,” she continued, taking it 
up from the table; “you may see what kind of a letter 
I wrote under the influence of my dream.” 

“Have you then abandoned all hope of hearing from 
him?” he asked, as he received the letter from her 
hand. 

“It can scarcely be said that I had any hope to 
abandon. Mother thought it folly to write. It has 
been many years since the last message was received, 
and that was of a nature to preclude the idea of further 
intercourse or of response, if my letter had reached 
him. It may be that he is dead, or that he is traveling 
in Europe. Mother says he repeatedly spoke about 
his intention of spending a number of years in wan- 
dering over the Old World.” 

“Was he financially able to neglect business and 
spend his days in traveling?” 

“He was reputed to be worth over a hundred thou- 
sand in stocks and bonds, preferring to never invest 
in real estate; and having retired from active business 
nearly eighteen years ago, he has been free to v^ander 
the world over, if he chose. I think he might have 
shared his affluence with his only niece, who never 
offended him; but if he could be so hard and unfor- 


130 


HELENA. 


giving to a brother, it is not to be expected that any 
considerations of kinship would move his heart. How- 
ever, I did not write with any thought of his riches; 
but only because the dream suggested sickness. I do 
not believe in dreams; nevertheless, my action in writ- 
ing shows that we are more or less influenced by 
things in which we have little or no faith.” 

‘'Are you not disregarding the words of Joel: ‘And 
your sons and your daughters shall prophesy; your 
old men shall dream dreams; your young men shall 
see visions’^” 

“You forget that St. Peter, in his address on the 
day of Pentecost, applied those words of Joel to what 
took place at that time. You will have to produce 
other Scripture than that to convince me that my 
dream creation was in the nature of a prophecy.” 

“Well, I will not try to overcome your unbelief in 
visions. I am a skeptic in that line myself. In sug- 
gesting that there might be significance in what 
seemed to point to a reconciliation with your alienated 
relative, I only wished to comfort you. The view 
you said your mother entertained of the matter is to 
my mind the correct one. You will, doubtless, have 
to look for a fortune in some other direction than from 
the stubborn uncle; that one will come, I can predict 
on a better basis than that furnished by the vagaries 
of a dream. ‘Your face is your fortune, my pretty 
maid.’ ” With an arch look and bright smile, he ut- 
tered these words as he rose to take his leave. 

The story of the rich uncle gave Clark food for 
thought. He reasoned, aside from any meaning in 


THE DROMIO LOVERS. 


I3I 

the dream, that it might be possible, if Jared Gardiner 
could yet be found, to so represent the loveliness of 
his niece to him as to produce a change of mind. He 
determined to make an effort to discover the where- 
abouts of this uncle. The very next day he took 
steps, through correspondence, to get the address of 
the very best detective in Philadelphia. This obtained, 
he forwarded a liberal fee, with instructions to spare 
no pains in ascertaining what had become of one 
Jared Gardiner, who had lived in that city. He im- 
parted to the officer all the details of dates and descrip- 
tion that he had gathered from Katie’s conversation. 
In the course of a few months Mr. Clark was over- 
joyed at receiving the intelligence that the detective 
had found the object of his search. A Jared Gardiner, 
who in person and age answered to the description of 
Katie’s uncle, was still living in Philadelphia; he was 
in feeble health, and had been confined to his room 
(most of the time to his bed) for several months past. 
This information was obtained without the knowledge 
of Mr. Gardiner that any inquiries were being made 
concerning him. This was in accordance with the di- 
rections given by Clark. On receiving the report he 
at once determined to go to Philadelphia, but ar- 
ranged that no one, should know of it. He obtained 
a leave of absence from the bank on the plea that a 
matter of business required his presence in Chicago. 
From that city he wrote letters to a few of his friends; 
among them, one to Katie, saying that business had 
called him to the West for a few days; and immedi- 
ately took the fastest train to the East, arriving with- 


132 


HELENA. 


out delay in Philadelphia, where we will leave him 
for the present. Later on, the results of his mission 
shall be recorded. 

On the Sunday after Herman Clark’s lengthy visit 
to Katie, Harvey St. Clair made a call. 

In order to compare and the better to decide be- 
tween her Dromios, Katie led the conversation with 
St. Clair into the same channels she had discussed 
with Clark. She soon found that St. Clair had many 
honest misgivings about orthodox teachings. At first 
she was greatly disappointed at this, and unfavorably 
compared his uncertainty of belief with the positive 
and unwavering assertions of Mr. Clark. But as the 
discussion proceeded she became more and more im- 
pressed with the thought that St. Clair was more rev- 
erent and devout in expressing difficulties that 
troubled him than Clark was in asserting undoubted 
faith. This aroused her interest. She, as has been 
stated, possessed a deep religious nature, and was 
never disturbed by the doctrinal differences which 
have proved a stumbling block to so many. She un- 
derstood enough to satisfy her; the rest was consid- 
ered immaterial. She was certain that she knew 
Christ, believed in Him fully, and followed Him 
wholly — anything outside of that gave her no con- 
cern. While not shocked at the reverently expressed 
doubts of St. Clair, she was surprised to find that, 
while apparently desirous of doing so, he could not 
accept the simple faith of the Gospel. 

“ Do not the marvelous achievements of Chris- 


THE DROMIO LOVERS. I33 

tianity satisfy you of the divinity of its author?’’ she 
at length asked. 

“I readily and even gladly admit that Christ, with- 
out money or sword, surrounded by a few poor, un- 
lettered fishermen, set in motion an influence that has 
worked wonders in a short period of the world’s his- 
tory. That influence has spread over continents, 
crossed oceans, traversed valleys, and ascended moun- 
tains; and its effects have ever been benign and ele- 
vating; yet just what is true and what is not, puzzles 
me. When I read church history, written by its own 
highest lights, I feel uncomfortable.” 

“Why, in what way?” 

“We are told that in the first century several errors, 
as they were called by one part of the church, made 
their appearance, and heresies sprang up. Some de- 
nied the divinity of Christ; some claimed that Jesus 
had not a real but only an apparent human body, and 
that consequently his sufferings on the cross were only 
in appearance. Others, again, thought that He had 
a real body, and was merely a man, but that at the 
time of His baptism, Christ, a superior being, de- 
scended on Him, continued in Him during his min- 
istry, and leaving Him, when He was condemned, 
ascended again to Heaven; so that not Christ, but 
Jesus died. Then on down through all the centuries 
the Councils, Conferences, Assemblies of the Church 
have issued contradictory decrees as to what was 
Scripture and what was not. What troubles me is, 
that if Christians in the first century could not agree 
as to what Christ taught, how am I to know?” 


HELENA. 


i34 


“Is that all that disquiets you.” 

“Not quite; I cannot understand about so many re- 
ligions in the world, with a measure of good in every 
one of them. The adherents of each are positive that 
they have the true light, and that all others are in 
darkness. There is Fetichism, the crudest form of 
religion; it has a creed and a system; has its order of 
ministers, places of worship and altars. There is 
something of Fetich worship among us. Sailors cling 
to port on a Friday and weigh anchor on Sunday. We 
believe in charms, amulets and unlucky days. Then 
there are many other great religions — Zoroastrianism, 
Brahmanism, Buddhism, Confucianism and other 
isms, all having a moral code, and asking, if not an- 
swering the question. What shall I do to be saved? 
The devotees of each believe they, and they only, have 
the true religion. Now, with all the different religions 
of the world and the differences among Christian be- 
lievers, I ask, not captiously, but reverently. What is 
Truth? I do not believe in the religions I have named 
or in that of Greece or of ancient Egypt, or of the 
Norseman, or of Islam; but I do believe in the religion 
of Christ; yet to what degree or extent I can accept it, 
is the problem I have never been able to solve.” 

“Well, Mr. St. Clair,” replied Katie, “I think I shall 
have to preach you a little sermon, if you will give me 
attention.” 

“I may have gone to sleep, or, at least, felt like 
doing so, under the voice of regular divines, but I 
assure you of not only a wakeful but studious hear- 
ing.” 


THE DROMIO LOVERS. 


135 

“The thoughts I present are not original to myself. 
Years ago I heard a sermon that gave me great satis- 
faction, and the points have ever since remained dis- 
tinct in my mind. I cannot give the discourse in its 
entirety and beauty; I wish I could. When I have 
given the leading thoughts of this sermon, the appli- 
cation in answer to your views will be obvious. The 
text was, 'Follow Me.’ No human being that had 
ever lived, or would ever live, declared the divine, was 
fully qualified to use those words. While all desired 
to lead and all were averse to being led, still there was 
nowhere to be found a perfect leader. The best, the 
purest, the most learned needed themselves to be led. 
Who, then, could «ay, ‘Follow me?’ Yet the necessity 
for an infallible guide was apparent. In all nature, 
wherever the necessity for anything exists, the thing 
itself is always to be found. If, therefore, the neces- 
sity existed that the race should have a pattern of life, 
a perfect guide, such an one must somewhere ap- 
pear — ^where could mankind turn in search of one who 
could at all times be safely followed? Certainly not 
to the animal creation, for that is beneath us, and un- 
worthy of our emulation; and among ourselves no 
leader can be accepted, for all need to be led them- 
selves. If, then, we turn to the realm of angels, the 
next order above us, can any of them answer as a 
perfect model of life to us? Surely not; they are 
spirits; their conditions of life are dissimilar to ours, 
and therefore cannot exhibit an example of mortal, or 
bodily life. If you look further — to God himself, the 
spirit, infinite, eternal, unchangeable, and invisible — 


136 


HELENA. 


the same difficulty arises. Ours is not a spirit life, and 
we cannot pattern after a spirit’s example. One to 
guide us perfectly must live as we live, be a partaker 
of our nature, and yet be sinless. A necessity exists 
for such a leader, and, according to the well-known 
laws of nature, every absolute want is provided for. 
The incarnation of Christ was a necessity to supply 
that want. Man is unfit as a pattern; God, impossible 
as one — God-man, the only logical solution to per- 
fect leadership of mankind. If there was no other 
proof of the incarnation of the Son of God, the abso- 
lute necessity of such a union of God and man should 
be conclusive of the introduction into the world of 
such a being. Christ claims this dual nature. All 
Scripture corroborates His claim. No other in all 
the universe of God has or can have absolute authority 
and right to say, 'Follow me.’ 

"Now, Mr. St. Clair, you are disturbed because 
men in all ages and all countries have differed about 
matters of religion, when you are not asked to follow 
any man’s opinions. • Everybody desires to lead. The 
inevitable T told you so,’ even in the most trivial af- 
fairs, is but the outcropping of this innate tendency 
to claim superior knowledge, and, yet it is evident that 
no mere man is competent to guide perfectly. The 
Gospel I accept is a very simple one, and the con- 
troversies of pretended leaders do not trouble me in 
the least. I recognize but One, and I follow Him in 
all things without doubts or waverings. I close my 
sermon with the exhortation that you cultivate a like 
faith.” 


THE DROMIO LOVERS. 


i37 


‘‘I confess that you have interested me in a thought 
entirely new to me. I will ponder it with an unpre- 
judiced and earnest mind, and after doing so will 
frankly tell you how much or how little my views have 
been influenced by your discourse.” 


i3B 


HELENA. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

A VILLAINOUS PLOT. 

“ As thistles wear the softest down, 

To hide their prickles till they’re grown, 

And then declare themselves and tear 
Whatever ventures to come near : 

So a smooth knave does greater feats 
Than one that idly rails and threats. 

And all the mischief that he meant. 

Does, like the rattlesnake, prevent.” 

— Butler. 

Only a short time previous to St. Clair’s dismissal 
from the bank in Memphis, he had discounted a 
promissory note for three hundred dollars. If the 
banker thought of this at the time of discharging him, 
he did not refer to it, as he knew another name was 
on the note, which would insure payment at maturity. 
Herman Clark had knowledge of the transaction, and 
was greatly surprised that Josiah Carter had affixed 
his name to the note. He was regarded as very 
miserly, and not disposed to do favors for any one. 
While known to possess considerable property, his 
reputation for fair dealing was bad. Josiah Carter’s 
character was well known to Clark, and when he dis- 
covered that St. Clair was likely to prove a formidable 


A VILLAINOUS PLOT. 


139 


rival in his love pursuit for the fair Katie, the matter 
of the note occurred to him, and he determined to 
cause as much annoyance to St. Clair as possible. He 
sent for Mr. Carter to notify him of date of maturity 
of the note. 

‘‘I need not assure you, Mr. Carter, of my friend- 
ship for you, and of my desire to serve you in any 
way I can,” said Clark when the two were alone. 
“The bank with which I am now prominently con- 
nected appreciates your business and good will.” 

There was not the slightest foundation for this 
statement. He had never displayed any friendship for 
Carter, and the bank did not care a farthing for his 
business or good will, but he knew that Carter would 
be flattered by such words. 

“Now, having a real interest in your welfare,” he 
continued, “I wish to speak about a matter in which 
you are involved with Harvey St. Clair. It is well 
known that St. Clair had been going a pretty fast 
gait, spending money more freely than his salary jus- 
tified. He found it necessary to raise funds. This 
he could not do without surety. One day he offered 
a note to be discounted, and, as it bore your name, 
the money was promptly furnished to him. After his 
dismissal, on account of intemperate habits, I looked 
at the note, and was convinced that the signature of 
your name was not genuine. Feeling sure that you 
had not signed the note, my object in seeking this 
interview is to advise you of its existence. I can un- 
derstand how it all happened. St. Clair being in the 
bank at the time, and having charge of the notes, ex- 


140 


HELENA. 


pected out of his salary to make payment, and prevent 
discovery of his use of your name. Now, as he is 
practically out of work, having but a meagre salary at 
Corinth, you will have to pay it all, if you did sign the 
note.” 

Mr. Clark spoke rapidly, not giving his listener an 
opportunity to interrupt him. His object was to sug- 
gest to Carter's mind the idea of forgery, relying on 
his unscrupulous nature to seize upon any pretext to 
avoid financial loss. He was not mistaken. 

“Of course, I did not sign it!” exclaimed Mr. Car- 
ter. “I am not likely to put my name on notes of 
young spendthrifts.” 

“I was sure you did not,” returned Clark, as a gleam 
of satisfaction sparkled in his eyes. “If you say noth- 
ing of my speaking to you about this, I can greatly 
assist you. On the day the note falls due, St. Clair 
will come here and ask you to sign a renewal. You 
will, of course, be astonished, and at first not under- 
stand what he is talking about; but when it appears 
that he has a note in bank with your endorsement, 
have him arrested for forgery. He has neither money 
nor friends, and as he left here in disgrace, you will 
have no trouble in establishing the charge.” 

“All right, Mr. Clark; I will follow your advice, and 
teach that young scapegrace a lesson for forging my 
name.” 

After some further conversation, in which both ex- 
pressed great indignation at the crime of St. Clair, 
they separated. Herman Clark knew perfectly well 
that the signature was not a forgery, but he also knew 


/ 


A VILLAINOUS PLOT. 


I4I 

now that Carter would swear it was, and that was 
satisfactory to him. 

A month later St. Clair stopped at the home of John 
Gage, on his way to Memphis. He spoke to his friend 
of being uneasy about his liability at the bank. 

'‘The bank officials are not overly friendly to me,” 
he said, “and Mr. Carter is a hard man. Now that I 
have left the locality, he may be harsh and ugly about 
renewing the note, as I agreed to pay it in full. I am 
unable to do more than make a small payment.” 

“You need not worry,” replied John Gage. If he 
does not sign the renewal he will have to pay it him- 
self. But how in the world did you get Josiah Carter 
to sign the note, in the first place?” 

“On one occasion, more than a year ago, he was 
in the bank, and asked me to verify some calculations 
he had made concerning a certain transaction. I did 
so, and discovered he had made a mistake in his 
figures, by which he would have suffered considerable 
loss. He was greatly pleased at having the error cor- 
rected in time, and ever afterward showed, for one of 
his nature, unusual friendliness. When a time came 
in which I was compelled to raise some money to meet 
an obligation resulting from speculation, I remem- 
bered his friendly deportment, and, as I had no one 
else to whom I could apply, I went out one day to his 
farm to ask his assistance. He and his two sons were 
in the field, loading the piles of shucked corn into a 
wagon. I had little hopes of my mission’s proving 
successful; but, to my great surprise and gratification, 
he took the note from my hand and affixed his name 


142 


HELENA. 


and returned it to me, without saying a word. Had 
I remained at the bank I should have been able to 
pay the note in full, but now I will have to entreat his 
further favor.” 

“I wonder that he did you the favor then. It would 
be quite characteristic of him to be ungracious now, 
except that his only escape from paying it himself 
will be in giving you time, for you, like myself, are 
proof against enforced collections.” 

'‘Very true,” said St. Clair, smiling; “but I am glad 
to know that your condition in that and in all other 
respects is soon to be greatly improved.” 

“Yes,” returned Gage; “I am now the happiest man 
in the world, with bright prospects in every direction. 
I have passed out of the shadow of doubt and distress 
into the bright sunshine of hope and happiness. Re- 
new the note, as before, Harvey; and if you are not 
able to meet it next time, you need not trouble Carter; 
come to me.” 

Parting from his friend, St. Clair soon reached 
Memphis. The reception he met will be recorded in 
a subsequent chapter. 


BASENESS OF A RIVAL. 


143 


CHAPTER XIV. 

BASENESS OF A RIVAL. 

Why should the sacred character of virtue 
Shine on a villain’s countenance ? Ye powers ! 

Why fixed you not a brand on treason’s front 
That we might know t’ avoid perfidious mortals ?” 

— Dennis. 

Herman Clark, as we have seen, was a frequent 
visitor at Judge Triston’s home. From the night 
when he first saw the lovely Katie at the fortune- 
teller's cabin, he determined to win her hand. He 
studied every art he could employ to accomplish this 
purpose. It was soon apparent to him that the 
mother’s influence over the daughter was very great; 
that the latter looked with longing reverence to the 
former for counsel and guidance. He, therefore, re- 
solved to first gain the confidence and esteem of Mrs. 
Brannan. He was intelligent and artful; his pleasing 
address gave him ready opportunity for exercising his 
powers; unscrupulous and heartless, he could with 
consummate skill impress an unsuspicious nature with 
the idea that he was the most warm-hearted of men 
and the soul of^honor. On several occasions he had 
engaged in long conversations with the mother and 
daughter on various moral themes. He was too wise 


144 


HELENA. 


to Speak of himself, but he eloquently commended in 
others the qualities of self-sacrifice, and all the noble 
and sincere purposes of life. When others were pres- 
ent to engage the attention of the daughter, he sought 
the companionship of the mother. Mrs. Brannan 
soon experienced a warm regard and very kindly 
liking for the young man, and looked upon his visits 
with pleasure. On one occasion they were seated 
on the opposite side of the parlor from Mrs. Triston, 
Harry Thorne and Katie. The conversation carried 
on by the one group was not heard by the other. 

Clark felt sure he possessed the esteem of Mrs. 
Brannan, and he now sought to advance further in 
her confidence. 

‘Tt may appear unseemly in me, Mrs. Brannan,” he 
said, “to refer to a subject of painful interest to you; 
yet, having heard but a meagre rumor, I should like 
to hear from your own lips the story of your sad be- 
reavement. I am not prompted by curiosity; I only 
desire to more intelligently sympathize with one who 
has so kindly honored me with her friendship.” 

“The subject is not a forbidden one. I am even 
glad to speak to you of that period of my life toward 
which my thoughts are ever wandering. My home, 
as you have doubtless heard, was in Fremont, at the 
time of my marriage to Mr. Brannan. My wedded 
life with him was very brief. In one year after our 
union I was left desolate. During that year our home 
was congenial. He was affectionate and considerate — 
at no time was there any incompatibility of mind or 
temper. Two or three months previous to his dis- 


BASENESS OF A RIVAL. 


145 


appearance he indulged too freely in drink. This 
caused me uneasiness, but I did not upbraid or lecture 
him. He was not driven away by unpleasant scenes at 
home, as the ever-ready tongue of scandal has 
charged. 

“One bright aftenoon he told me he was going to 
Lawrence to attend a lodge meeting. He mentioned 
that it would probably be late before he could return, 
and hoped I would not be uneasy. As usual, on leav- 
ing, he kissed me, and with a bright smile and wave of 
his hand he started on the road to Lawrence, a town 
only four miles distant. I stood in the doorway watch- 
ing him until he passed from view, but no thought or 
foreboding of evil entered my mind. I never saw him 
again. Not for a moment have I entertained the 
opinion that he deserted me. I am certain he met 
his death that night by accidentally falling into a rapid 
stream, over which he had to pass, and that the swift 
current carried his body away. Long search was 
made, but no trace was found to solve the mystery of 
his disappearance. Still I know that he is dead, and 
I hold his memory sacred.” 

“The theory of desertion is an insult to both the 
living and the dead, and I am surprised to hear such 
a suggestion was ever made,” said Clark, although 
thoroughly convinced that the theory of desertion was 
the correct one. “Your sad story awakens a deep 
and earnest sympathy. I thank you for this privilege 
of sharing in the sad thoughts of your life.” 

“Your frank and sincere interest in my trouble is 
very grateful to me, But, to change the subject, I 


146 


HELENA. 


just heard the name of Harvey St. Clair mentioned 
by Harry Thorne. I should like to inquire about him 
of one who has known him intimately. I believe you 
were associated with him in the bank at Memphis?” 

“Oh! Mr. St. Clair is quite an agreeable young man. 
He possesses some very fine traits of character. His 
disposition is obliging and generous, and his faults, if 
he has any, are in the line of self-indulgence. You, of 
course, know how he came to leave the bank at Mem- 
phis.” 

The purpose of Herman Clark was to make effective 
his insinuations against St. Clair by first speaking in 
his praise. He . was extremely anxious to turn Mrs. 
Brannan against St. Clair, and, through her, the 
daughter also. 

“I heard through Mr. Triston and Harry Thorne 
that the banker had been misinformed as to the cause 
of a certain absence from his post, and had dispensed 
with his services without affording him a chance for 
explanation.” 

“Ah! then I am sorry I reverted to that matter,” 
said Mr. Clark, with a significant expression of sur- 
prise on his face. “I should be the last one in the 
world to say a word to change a favorable impression 
of a friend of mine.” His manner indicated that he 
could impart information on the subject, but that he 
was averse to doing so. 

“Why, was there any serious fault on the part of 
Mr. St. Clair?” asked Mrs. Brannan, with natural cu- 
riosity. 

“No intentional fault; but the banker considered it 


BASENESS OF A RIVAL. I47 

quite serious. Mr. St. Clair’s own confession caused 
his dismissal. Your friends were misinformed as to 
his not having an opportunity to explain; but I am 
very sorry you asked me a direct question. I could 
not but answer you truthfully on any subject, how- 
ever unpleasant to me it might be. Mr. St. Clair is a 
man of good purposes and intentions, except he ” 

Here he paused, as though unwilling to go farther. 

“Since I have caused you to answer in part, it would 
be better for me to hear in full. I respect your feel- 
ings ; I honor those who refrain from speaking against 
their acquaintances; but the truth sometimes ought 
to be told. I prefer to know the truth rather than be 
left to conjecture.” 

“Your wishes are commands to me. I will tell the 
simple facts without comment as to my own opinions. 
You will remember that, shortly after your arrival in 
Corinth, a temperance entertainment was given, at 
which your daughter recited. St. Clair, on invitation 
of Harry Thorne, attended. Before leaving Memphis 
he procured a bottle of whiskey, which he stowed 
under the seat of his buggy, for the purpose (as he 
stated to a friend) of getting consolation on the return 
trip, for the infliction he would endure in listening to 
the temperance fanatics. Apparently, he sought too 
much consolation. His horse ran away and he was 
dashed to the ground, where he was found, while still 
insensible, by his friend, John Gage, who took him 
to his home near by. He was only stunned and not 
much hurt. The horse, with a remnant of the buggy, 
reached Memphis and caused inquiry to be made. 


148 


HELENA. 


The banker heard in some way of St. Clair’s having 
provided himself with whiskey, probably through the 
fact of the empty bottle’s being found near the place 
of the accident. Three or four days after, St. Clair 
having recovered from his bruises, appeared at the 
bank, and when asked about his conduct, admitted 
all that had been reported to the banker. He was at 
once discharged. Now, Mrs. Brannan, I do not criti- 
cise his course. Not knowing myself the taste of 
liquor, I cannot understand the temptation to one 
who has formed a liking for it, and therefore would not 
judge him harshly.” 

Mr. Clark made his statement with hesitation and 
apparent reluctance. He well knew how one of Mrs. 
Brannan’s ideas of morality would regard the conduct 
described, and was anxious to impress her with the 
idea of his directly opposite disposition in regard to 
intoxicants. In reality, he was a regular and steady 
drinker, and had imbibed more liquor in a month 
than St. Clair had in a year, but he did it on the sly. 

“Why, if he is so weak in the matter of self-indulg- 
ence,” said Mrs. Brannan when he ceased speaking, 
“I am afraid his deficiency in strength of character 
may involve him in more serious troubles.” 

“I have reason to believe that it has done so al- 
ready; but I will save him if possible, and will tell you 
in the future to what I refer, and the results of my ef- 
forts to shield him.” 

“I am sorry to hear this, but glad you have frankly 
told me the story,” said Mrs. Brannan. She was fully 
persuaded from the reluctant manner of Clark that 


BASENESS OF A RIVAL. 


149 


he had imparted the truth. The idea that he regarded 
St. Clair as a rival and sought to poison her mind 
against him did not occur to her. She was satisfied 
that she had learned the true character of St. Clair — 
a clever and amiable young man, meaning well, but 
weak and yielding in the face of temptation. Her in- 
terest in learning about him was aroused by a suspi- 
cion that her daughter was becoming more and more 
attracted towards him. She now resolved to use all 
her powers to check the growth of any love senti- 
ments in that direction. She felt that at the present 
stage it would be an easy task, and was very grateful 
to Mr. Clark for the information he had given. His 
adroit and polite attentions, shown in so natural and 
unpresuming a way, greatly flattered her. She was 
intelligent and not vain, but she was deceived, as the 
good and wise often are, by the smooth, oily tongue 
of the false and base-hearted. 

Harry Thorne arose to leave, and the two groups 
mingled together and joined in a general conversa- 
tion. Soon after his departure, Mrs. Triston and Mrs. 
Brannan excused themselves, and Katie Gardiner was 
left alone to entertain Mr. Clark. 

'‘You and mother seem to be very confidential 
friends,’^ observed Katie, with a pleasant smile. 'T 
fear I must become jealous of her, if she monopolizes 
the attention of all the young gentlemen. It is the 
same way when Harry Thorne or Mr. St. Clair calls. 
Now I know she is so sweet and lovable that it is not 
surprising every one prefers her society, but what she 


150 


HELENA. 


can find of interest in the silly twaddle of you young- 
sters is the mystery to me.” 

“You are very complimentary. Accept my gateful 
acknowledgments. But, jesting aside, I am quite in 
love with your mother. Do not think I speak words 
of flattery, when I say that she is one of the most 
charming women I ever met; excepting her daughter 
(who ought not to be blamed for being like her), there 
is no one with whom I prefer to converse.” 

“That will answer for a peace offering. The high- 
est compliment that can be paid me is to say I re- 
semble her. I fairly idolize her. She is my model, 
my highest ideal of womanhood. She is my coun- 
sellor in all things, and she is always right, so I never 
think of acting contrary to her judgment. I am glad 
to see you talking to her, for if she gives you as good 
advice as she does me, she might make something out 
of even you, although such a thing is hardly to be ex- 
pected.” 

“I agree,” he returned, laughing, “that if she failed, 
it would be a hopeless undertaking. But you say that 
you follow her counsel in all things. Suppose she did 
not favor the suit of one to whom you had given your 
heart’s love, what would you do in such a case?” 

“Well, there is no such case, nor likely to be, for 
several reasons. First, I do not propose to love any 
one. I am set apart for the happiest destiny of woman- 
kind — an old maid. Second, if I were ever so unfor- 
tunate as to fall in love, I am sure mother would favor 
it; third, if in such a case she did oppose the inclina- 
tions of my heart, I should be so certain she had good 


BASENESS OF A RIVAL. 


151 

reasons for it, that I would change my inclinations; 
and we should again agree, as we have always done.” 

“You have greater will power, then, than any one 
else in the world,” he said, looking earnestly into her 
eyes. 

“Why do you say that?” 

“Because all others find it impossible to change the 
inclinations occasioned by love, no matter how many 
or how good the reasons offered for so doing.” 

“Oh, that is the way it is taught in novels. I will 
not consent to have anything come into my heart 
that will take away my brains. I hope to always have 
sense enough to see and understand good reasons 
for giving up what I ought not to have.” 

“Well, I hope when love enters your heart there 
will not be any good reasons for giving up the object 
of it. It is evident you have never loved.” 

“Your assumption of superior knowledge on the 
subject suggests that you have.” 

“I have; I love now, and I am sure that neither 
mother’s tears nor prayers could change my heart’s 
inclinations.” 

There was a subdued intensity in his tones as he 
uttered these words; but before she could speak he 
added: “My creed as to love’s constancy is different 
from yours, now. Wait until you really love, and then 
tell me whether your heart or your brain, your affec- 
tions or your reason, will control your actions. Let 
us now discuss some of your favorite authors. It is 
always delightful to hear you discourse on literature, 
and I think we generally agree on such subjects.” 


152 


HELENA* 


He longed to throw himself at her feet and pour 
out burning words of love, but he knew she was not 
ready to hear it. He felt he was growing in her favor, 
and in time expected a return of his passion. His 
words and manners had shown her the state of his 
heart, and he reasoned that this would tend to de- 
velop a favorable impression towards him. 

After he had gone she gave herself up to long and 
serious thought. It is pleasing to discover that 
homage is offered. She regarded Mr. Clark as a 
young man of high moral qualities, and knew him to 
be intelligent and interesting. The honor of his love 
was a compliment, and it aroused sober heart ques- 
tionings. His company was agreeable; his personal 
appearance was satisfactory — in fact, he was handsome 
and prepossessing. But did he fill the measure of 
her heart’s ideal? There was something lacking; she 
knew not what. Somehow, her thoughts turned to St. 
Clair. He had made no overtures, yet she felt his 
manner and bearing betokened a truer and more ele- 
vated homage than even the intense tones to which 
she had just listened. Her heart’s instincts in some 
way detected a difference in the two natures; yet the 
little she had heard and her own observations indi- 
cated that Clark was strong and self-reliant, while St. 
Clair, although frank and generous, was weak and 
self-indulgent. Her judgment leaned toward Clark; 
her heart inclined toward St. Clair. Which will she 
follow? 


ARREST FOR FORGERY. 


153 


CHAPTER XV. 

ARREST FOR FORGERY. 

** Innocence unmov’d 
At a false accusation doth the more 
Confirm itself ; and guilt is best discover’d 
By its own fears.” 

—Nabb. 

‘‘He’s poor, and that’s suspicious — he’s unknown, 

And that’s defenceless ; true we have no proof 
Of guilt — but what hath he of innocence?” 

— Byron, 

I COULD not wait for you to come to the office, Mr. 
Triston,’' exclaimed Harry Thorne, as he was ushered 
early one morning into the sitting room of Judge 
Tristoffis home. “A letter in this morning’s mail from 
Memphis contains the most astounding information. 
I cannot understand it. Here is the letter; read it, and 
tell me what it means.” 

Judge Triston took the letter and read aloud as fol- 
lows : 

'‘Dear Harry, — I came here yesterday, as you know, 
for the purpose of renewing a note in bank. When I 
called’ on Mr. Josiah Carter and asked him to sign a 
new note in renewal of the one he had heretofore 
signed, he said he had never endorsed a note for me, 


154 


HELENA. 


and if there was one in bank with his name to it, it 
was a forgery. He left me abruptly, and in a short 
time a warrant was sworn out for my arrest on the 
charge of forgery. Through the kindness of John 
Gage, a bondsman was secured, and I have so far 
avoided being lodged in jail as a common criminal. 
Mr. Joseph Barnard signed the bail bond. My trial 
will not occur until the latter part of next month, 
nearly two months hence. In the meantime, I will re- 
main at my home here, as I am unwilling to meet any 
of my friends in Corinth until I am cleared of this dis- 
graceful charge. I need not assure you of my inno- 
cence. Please ask Judge Triston to take the man- 
agement of my case, and represent me at the trial. 

''Sincerely yours, Harvey St. Clair.” 

"This is a great surprise to me,” said Judge Tris- 
ton, as he finished reading the letter. "It is a serious 
charge.” 

"Yes, but it is a false one,” said Thorne. "Harvey 
jSt. Clair is no more guilty of forgery than I am. I 
know he is honorable and incapable of such an act.” 

"I have entertained a similar opinion of him,” re- 
turned Mr. Triston. Still, if Mr. Carter swears that 
the signature is not genuine, and St. Clair has no wit- 
nesses to establish its genuineness, it will prove a ser- 
ious case.” 

"I am greatly in hopes,” said Mrs. Brannan, who, 
together with her daughter, was in the room when 
Harry Thorne entered, "that Mr. St. Clair will be able 
to prove his innocence, but I fear that in a moment of 


ARREST FOR FORGERY. 


155 


weakness he has yielded to temptation. I believe Mr. 
Thorne overestimates his friend’s strength of charac- 
ter.” 

*T am sure I do not. The sequel will demonstrate 
that my faith in his integrity is not misplaced. Will 
you, Judge, attend the trial?” 

‘Wes; write and express to him my sympathy, and 
assure him that I will be present and assist in his 
defense.” 

During the conversation Katie Gardiner had re- 
mained silent. She did not speak lest her inward 
emotion should betray itself. Why did she feel so 
disturbed? she asked herself. St. Clair was only an 
acquaintance. Of course she would be sorry for an 
acquaintance in trouble, but why this wild tumult of 
distress surging in her heart? For the hrst time she 
realized there was a feeling different from what she 
felt toward any other. 

When Judge Triston and Harry had left the house 
she turned with an imploring look to her mother. 

“Why do you think Mr. St. Clair’s character is weak, 
and that it was possible for him to yield to such a 
temptation. I believe he is guiltless.” 

“My daughter, I fear you are mistaken. We do not 
always know the real character of those who impress 
us most favorably. I have information that you have 
not. I will now tell you what caused the opinion I 
expressed. From certain facts elicited in a conversa- 
tion with Mr. Clark I was not as surprised at the news 
as the others were,” 


156 


HELENA. 


“It was very mean in Mr. Clark to speak against a 
friend,” interrupted Katie. 

“Do not be hasty, daughter. Let me explain the 
whole circumstances of my interview with Mr. Clark. 
What I learned was very reluctantly imparted.” 

Mrs. Brannan recounted the entire conversation 
in which Herman Clark had, with such apparent re- 
gret and embarrassment, answered her inquiries. 
How he had spoken in generous praise of St. Clair 
and revealed the story of the runaway and its evident 
cause only when she had insisted upon it, as being 
more just. 

Honestly convinced herself that Mr. Clark was hon- 
erable in his course, she presented his attitude in such 
a light as not to reflect upon him as in the least 
unkind or unfriendly in his treatment of a friend. 

Katie’s amazement was unbounded as she listened 
to the recital of St. Clair’s self-indulgence and the 
consequent dismissal from the bank. She saw no way 
to discredit the story; still she was unwilling to argue 
therefrom that he was probably guilty of the mere 
serious charge of forgery. 

“Even if all this is true,” she said, “I still cannot be- 
lieve it possible that he has stooped to the heinous 
offense of signing another’s name to a note.” 

“I observed to Mr. Clark that if he was weak and 
yielding in such things, he might be deficient in 
strength of character and fail to resist more serious 
temptations; his reply convinces me now that he had 
knowledge or suspicions of this very offense.” 

“What was his reply?” 


ARREST FOR FORGERY. 


157 


said, ‘I fear he has already done so; but I will 
save him if possible, and will tell you in future to what 
I refer and the results of my efforts to shield him.’ ” 
^‘This is a very severe blow to me, mother. It is 
hard to have an ideal of sincerity and truthfulness 
shattered. I did not know until now how highly I re- 
garded Mr. St. Clair. I had not realized that love for 
him was springing up in my heart, but I see now that 
I was unconsciously clothing him with all the perfec- 
tions of my ideal. To you alone I make this confes- 
sion. The ideal is broken. The dream must fade 
away, and I must banish even the memory of it from 
my thoughts.” 


158 


HELENA. 


CHAPTER XVL 

A FRIEND AND AN ENEMY AT WORK. 

‘‘ Friendship above all ties does bind the heart, 

And faith in friendship is the noblest part.” 

— Lord Orrery. 

“ The ignoble mind 
Loves ever to assail with secret blow 
The loftier, purer beings of their kind.” 

— Stmms. 

A FEW days after the service rendered his friend, St. 
Clair, in procuring a bondsman, John Gage departed 
for Vernon, the home of his affianced. On the day ap- 
pointed, his marriage to Lena Barnard took place. 
A fortnight was spent among the relatives and friends 
of the bride before returning to their future home with 
Joseph Barnard at Meadow Farm. The father of 
Lena, during their brief stay at Vernon, became great- 
ly impressed with the sterling character and worth of 
the one his daughter had chosen for a life companion. 
His brother’s high commendation had prepared him 
to expect worthy traits in the son-in-law, but his own 
observation more than confirmed the account given. 
Being thus favorably inclined toward Gage, he readily 
took interest in whatever was of concern to the young 
man. On one occasion he spoke to his father-in-law 


A FRIEND AND AN ENEMY AT WORK. 1 59 

about his friend, Harvey St. Clair, and of his anxiety 
to do something to promote his prosperity. His as- 
sertions were positive and emphatic as to the ability, 
honor and integrity of his friend, yet he feared that the 
misfortune of his dismissal from the bank at Mem- 
phis, and his arrest on the charge of forgery would 
fatally injure his prospects. He had no doubt of his 
acquittal, as he knew it was impossible for St. Clair to 
be guilty of such a crime. Mr. Barnard listened at- 
tentively to the story, and the earnest manner of John 
Gage convinced him that St. Clair must be the victim 
of untoward circumstances and not unworthy; there- 
fore he expressed a willingness to aid him. He prom- 
ised Gage, in the event of his friend’s exoneration by 
the court, he would arrange to give him a position in 
his manufacturing establishment, and it would be such 
a place as would enable him to advance rapidly, if he 
possessed the ability claimed for him. 

On Gage’s return he hastened to acquaint his friend 
of the fine opening awaiting him at the termination of 
his trial. St. Clair was deeply moved by the devoted 
interest taken in his welfare. 

“I can never thank you enough,” he said. '‘An op- 
portunity of this kind fills my utmost desire. If I can 
make a business success, I may then aspire to a re- 
alization of my love dream. Yet I fear that this false 
accusation will ruin all my fond hopes. I may not 
be able to convince the jury of my innocence. It is 
reported that Carter and his two sons will testify that 
the signature is a forgery.” 

“Do not be discouraged. The right will prey^i}, 


i6o 


HELENA. 


Everything possible will be done by your friends and 
your lawyers to defeat the old scoundrel, and I am 
confident they will succeed.” 

“Well, I will bear up manfully and hope for the 
best. Mr. Clark came to see me, and kindly ex- 
pressed his sympathy. He seemed greatly incensed 
that I should be called upon to answer such a charge. 
As you know, I did not look upon him as friendly in- 
clined, but his manner has given me a more favorable 
impression of his attitude towards me. I am relieved 
of a fear I entertained at first, that he would give tes- 
timony as an expert prejudicial to me. He assures 
me of his warmest interest in my behalf.” 

“I am glad to hear this,” said Gage. “Perhaps we 
have judged him unkindly and unjustly. I will see 
him soon and cultivate his friendship more generously 
than I have done heretofore.” 

A little while after leaving St. Clair, Gage met Her- 
man Clark and introduced the subject of his friend’s 
trouble. 

“It is a most preposterous charge,” said Clark. 
“Any one who knows St. Clair will not believe him 
capable of committing such a criminal offense. He 
surely can have no difficulty in establishing his in- 
nocence.” 

“Your testimony may be of great service. You 
are doubtless familiar with Josiah Carter’s signature?” 

“No; I have never seen his name on any document 
except on the St. Clair note. It may be that there are 
papers in the bank bearing his signature, but, if so, I 
have not observed them, I will take a look and see 


A FRIEND AND AN ENEMY AT WORK. l6l 


what I can find. I do not question that, when the 
name as written on St. Clair’s note is compared with 
the signature of Mr. Carter on other papers, a simi- 
larity will be shown to prove the genuineness of the 
one claimed as a forgery. J think there need be no 
uneasiness about the triumphant acquittal of our 
friend.” 

Gage was greatly pleased at the words of Clark. 
He felt exceedingly kind towards him, and secretly 
upbraided himself for his former uncharitable 
thoghts. After a few minutes’ further conversation 
concerning the case of St. Clair, Clark changed the 
subject by saying: 

“I am seeking to discover the whereabouts of a 
certain person who formerly lived in this county. I 
have inquired of every one I know except you, and 
your absence has prevented my asking you before. 
So far, I have found no one that can tell what has 
become of him. His name is Alfred Gibson.” 

“It is fortunate that you did not pass me by. By 
the merest accident, I can furnish the information you 
seek. Only a few days ago I saw and talked with 
Alfred Gibson. While in Vernon I was talking to 
some gentlemen I met in a store, and, incidentally, 
mentioned the fact of my living in Henderson County. 
A man standing near at once approached me and re- 
marked that he had formerly lived in that county. We 
naturally entered into conversation about the people 
and scenes of our home locality, in which I learned 
his name and the fact that he resides in the country 
only a few miles from Vernon,” 


HELENA. 


162 

Herman Clark was highly elated, but did not dis- 
play any special interest. He told Gage that an ex- 
soldier friend had written to him to procure, if pos- 
sible, the address of Alfred Gibson. Clark now re- 
garded everything as working for the accomplishment 
of his purpose. He believed that he would soon 
have St. Clair disgraced, and that the fortune-teller 
would now be able to bring the long-lost Captain 
Brannan to light. He reasoned that in the great dis- 
tress of Mrs. Brannan and her daughter, occasioned 
thereby, he would pose as their best friend, and that 
the lovely Katie would not then reject his overtures. 
He determined to defer telling Stephen Pye of Gib- 
son’s address until such time as he was ready for the 
disclosure as to Brannan to be made. 

John Gage also was elated over the interview, but 
with very different hopes and motives. He was greatly 
pleased to hear the assurance Clark had given of his 
purpose to befriend St. Clair. He could not have 
believed — much less have known — that on the night 
of that very day Clark had arranged for a secret meet- 
ing with Josiah Carter. This meeting was so carefully 
planned that no one had any knowledge of it. 

‘Tt is very important,” said Clark when alone in a 
secluded room with Mr. Carter, ‘'that no mistake be 
made in the prosecution you have undertaken, or the 
consequences may prove disastrous to yourself. You 
know I am your friend; but, in order to serve you best, 
I must appear to befriend St. Clair. It must never 
be known that I have had any interview with you. I 
will be a valuable witness for your side, but my state- 


A FRIEND AND AN ENEMY AT WORK. 1 63 


merits must be drawn out by persistent cross-ques- 
tioning. My first statements will be friendly towards 
the accused, but, when I have explained fully, you 
will know what questions to suggest to the prosecut- 
ing attorney. I have brought from the bank the note 
of St. Clair, to which your name is affixed; and I have 
also brought two petitions — one about a country road, 
and the other about a district school, which I found 
among papers at the bank. On both these petitions 
are the signatures of several of your neighbors. These 
papers are of no value now. They were prepared 
several years ago, and no one knows now who did or 
did not sign them. You can now sign your name to 
each of them, being careful that the signature is writ- 
ten differently from the one on this note. 

“At the trial you can instruct the prosecutor to ask 
me if your signature appears on any other papers in 
the bank. My answer will cause these petitions to be 
produced. I will reluctantly testify, in answer to ques- 
tions you have propounded, that I saw you sign these 
petitions, and know that the signature is yours. 
When they are compared with the writing on the 
note, great dissimilarity will be shown. Now, sign 
these two papers so that every letter will be the same in 
both signatures, and at the same time unlike the writ- 
ing of your name on the St. Clair note. Practice on 
this sheet of paper awhile; make a different kind of a 
capital J and C, and also form the other letters a little 
differently.” 

Mr. Carter took the pen and, following suggestions, 


164 


HELENA. 


was soon able to write his name in a style quite dis- 
similar to the way it appeared on the note. 

“Now, Mr. Carter, your success depends upon ab- 
solute secrecy as to my interviews with you. I have 
my own reasons for desiring the prosecution to estab- 
lish its case; and your position demands success; 
otherwise, you may be prosecuted for perjury. You 
can see that my friendly relations toward you must 
never be known.” 

“I understand fully, Mr. Clark,” replied Mr. Carter. 
“I will depend upon you, and you need have no ap- 
prehension of my betraying you. Our purpose and 
interest are identical, and our confidence is necessarily 
sacred.” 

After every minute detail had been discussed and 
thoroughly understood, the plotters separated. Mr. 
Clark was now confident that the issue of the trial 
would remove his rival from his path. He believed 
that St. Clair would be convicted and sentenced to a 
term in the penitentiary. He knew that Mrs. Bran- 
nan now favored his suit for her daughter’s hand, and 
felt confident that the daughter did not regard him 
with any special disfavor. He resolved that no time 
should be lost, and that every opportunity should be 
utilized to further his cause while the cloud rested 
on his rival, believing that when the storm of disgrace 
burst upon St. Clair, his own complete success would 
be achieved readily. 


THE ENEMY STILL AT WORK. 


165 


CHAPTER XVII. 

THE ENEMY STILL AT WORK. 

Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, 

And, without sneering, teach the rest to sneer ; 

Willing to wound, but yet afraid to strike, 

Just hint a fault, and hesitate dislike.” 

— Pope. 

In pursuance of his resolution to improve every 
moment and opportunity, Clark soon paid a visit to 
the residence of Judge Triston. He was received by 
Mrs. Brannan. 

“Your presence is very welcome,” she said, after 
the visitor was seated in the parlor. “I have been 
anxious to learn if the unfortunate situation of your 
friend, St. Clair, arises from what you had in mind 
when you intimated your purpose to shield him from 
a more serious weakness than that which caused his 
dismissal from the bank.” 

“I regret extremely that I inadvertently spoke as I 
did. It pains me to be the medium of any unpleasant 
revelation, even to you, of one who has been my inti- 
mate friend. But I feel that I cannot deny any confi- 
dence to you, and will therefore speak frankly. Mr. St. 
Clair’s trouble is what I feared, and what I hoped to 


HELENA. 


1 66 

avert. I still hope that his innocence may be estab- 
lished.” 

“You do not, then, think that the signature was a 
forgery?” 

“I am at a loss what to believe. It is inconceivable 
that he would be guilty of so grave an offence, yet 
Mr. Carter asserts positively that he never signed his 
name to the note. St. Clair occupies a very serious 
position, and even if he is not convicted, his good 
name must necessarily suffer. I am deeply distressed 
for my friend.” 

“I appreciate your feelings. I am also greatly 
pained. I had formed a high opinion of St. Clair, but 
all this indicates that underneath his naturally amiable 
and generous nature there lies a vein of weakness.’ 

“Let us hope that the ordeal through which he is 
passing may correct the evil or weak tendencies, and 
a strong, self-reliant, manly character be yet evolved.” 
He did not utter these words in a sneering tone, but 
his expression plainly indicated that he did not believe 
such a result probable. 

“It is charitable to hope in that direction,” said 
Mrs. Brannan with a sigh. “The history of mankind 
rarely furnishes examples of such changes. If he is 
guilty of this great crime, the tendency will be down- 
ward and not upward. I deeply mourn that my good 
opinion should be so rudely and forever changed.” 

“It is sad, indeed; I grieve much for my friend. 
But, dear Mrs. Brannan, I am not without very deep 
concern for myself. It is not from any apprehension 
of arrest or imprisonment. There is something even 


THE ENEMY STILL AT WORK. 


167 


more direful to me than that. I love your daughter — 
madly, passionately. I have not told her so, and will 
not without your consent. Oh! may I hope for your 
approval of my suit and your permission to speak to 
Katie of my love.” 

“I am not displeased to hear this, and am disposed 
to look with favor upon your claims; yet I must beg 
that you defer a declaration of love, at least until your 
next visit. Let your conduct and conversation with 
Katie to-day be just as heretofore. In one week you 
may return to receive my answer to your prayer for 
permission to speak to her.” 

“Your wishes will be fully respected. It is proper 
that you should know, although the knowledge will 
not influence either you or your daughter, that I will 
have ample means to provide the necessities and even 
the luxuries of life. By the death of an uncle, which 
occurred only a few weeks ago in a distant State, I 
have fallen heir to a considerable fortune. The estate 
is now being settled up, and very soon I shall come 
into possession of my inheritance. I do not wish any 
one to know of this, save yourself, until after I have 
won the greater fortune of your daughter’s hand.” 

At this moment Katie entered the parlor, and Mrs. 
Brannan, after a few minutes’ general conversation, 
withdrew. With music, and conversation on books 
and current topics, an hour or more was agreeably 
passed by the two, and then Mr. Clark took his de- 
parture. In accordance with his promise, he avoided 
any expression of love, except such as his manner 
and eyes conveyed. She could not mistake the nature 


l6S HELENA. 

A 

of his sentiments, and she was led to question her 
own heart to determine whether she could honestly 
return his love. She was pleased with his deport- 
ment and flattered by the homage of his love. She 
realized that her heart did not respond warmly, yet 
was conscious of an increasing interest, and reasoned 
that time might awaken deeper feelings. The answer 
she ought to make to a proffer of his hand and heart 
caused a sense of uneasiness and restraint. His man- 
ner was so marked, his admiration and devotion so 
apparent, that she expected an avowal at any moment. 
When he departed without having made it, she ex- 
perienced a feeling of relief. She knew it would not 
be long delayed, but she would now have time to 
calmly study her heart. 

“My dear daughter,” said Mrs. Brannan, when alone 
with Katie in their room, “I wish to speak very frankly 
on an important subject. First, did Mr. Clark speak 
to you of love?” 

“Yes, by looks and manner, but not by words.” 

“I am pleased that no avowal was made. You are 
aware of his love, because he was unable to hide it. 
This implies that his passion is deep and strong. It 
is a serious thing to love. If it is not returned, great 
pain and sometimes ruin of all life’s prospects follows. 
Yet it is better that pain come to one life than that two 
lives should be sacrificed. Your happiness is my deep- 
est concern. Mr. Clark told me of his love and asked 
permission to speak to you. I requested him to defer 
doing so, as I wished to talk with you. Are you pre- 
pared to answer him?” 


tHE ENEMY STILL AT WORK. 1 69 

‘^No, dear mother, I am not. I greatly respect and 
even admire him, and might soon experience a warmer 
feeling. I prize the homage and devotion of such a 
heart as I feel he possesses and shrink from giving it 
pain. Perhaps my duty and my own best good lies in 
the direction of accepting him. I have had faint 
visions of a different ideal, but they have faded away 
now.’’ 

“You refer to St. Clair. How sad I am that dreams, 
however faint, came to your mind in that direction! 
It is fortunate that the evidence to dispel them came in 
time. Your life would have been irretrievably ruined 
had there been a little delay of the recent develop- 
ments. It is clear now that we have been greatly mis- 
taken about Mr. St. Clair’s character. Disclosures so 
reluctantly and sadly given convince me beyond doubt 
that the forgery was committed — not with intention 
to defraud, but with expectation of making payment 
before discovery of the act. Conviction is now almost 
certain, and the open door of the State’s prison stands 
before him. It is unspeakably sad that one with so 
many admirable traits should prove devoid of moral 
strength. You must never permit your thoughts to 
again revert to him. While your own heart must de- 
cide for or against Mr. Clark, I personally esteem him 
highly and should be glad if you could feel your own 
happiness can be secured by making him happy. He 
impresses me as a man possessing strong moral con- 
victions and full of kindly and generous impulses. I 
feel sure .that his love for you is deep and abiding and 
that his every desire and aim will be to promote your 


170 


HELENA. 


welfare. Perhaps I ought not to say this, as it may 
appear like an effort to influence you. Consider only 
that I favor his pretensions in the event they are ac- 
ceptable to you.” 

‘‘I will commune earnestly with my heart, and when 
he returns I shall be prepared to answer.” 


THE SEARCH RESUMED 


171 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE SEARCH RESUMED. 

‘‘Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt; 

Nothing so hard, but search will find it out.” 

errick, 

Clark was well satisfied that Mrs. Brannan favored 
his aspirations for the hand of her daughter. He was 
by no means so well satisfied with the inclinations of 
the daughter. His greatest hope, however, was that 
the mother’s preference would have much weight. The 
time had come to put his hopes to the test. In case 
of hesitancy or refusal, he must have ready other in- 
fluences to work in his own behalf. Stephen Pye 
must now be sent on his mission of discovery. With 
this thought in view, Clark took his way to the cabin 
on the cliff. The fortune-teller was anxious to see him, 
knowing that he had been making diligent inquiry for 
the address of the ex-soldier Gibson. 

“I bring you good news,” said Herman Clark, in 
answer to the searching look of Mr. Pye. 

“Ah! have you learned anything of Gibson? Speak 
quick. The hope of finding him has been so long de- 
ferred that despair has entered my heart.” 

“Yes, my friend, I can tell you all you want to know. 
Alfred Gibson, who was a soldier in Captain Brannan ’s 
company, is now living about two hundred miles from 


1/2 


HELENA. 


here, near Vernon, m adjoining State. If Captain 
Brannan is there, he did not go very far away from his 
deserted home to locate.” 

^‘How did you ascertain about Gibson?” 

"‘From Mr. Gage, who has recently returned from 
Vernon, where he went to wed a Miss Barnard. By 
the way, you will remember that this young lady had 
her fortune told by you on the night I first saw you. 
By some strange accident you described Mr. Gage as 
the one she was in love with. Soon after that they be- 
came engaged, and Miss Barnard returned to her home 
in Vernon to make preparations for the marriage, 
which occurred a few weeks ago. They are now living 
with Joseph Btirnard at Meadow Lawn.” 

'‘Yes, I recollect the circumstances, and I am glad if 
any haphazard words of mine contributed toward a 
happy union.” 

Stephen Pye also remembered that Mr. Gage was 
secreted with St. Clair in his cabin on the night re- 
ferred to, but having promised never to reveal that 
fact, he kept his word faithfully. 

"Your haphazard words also served to accomplish 
your own desires. Except for what occurred then Mr. 
Gage would never have aspired to the hand of the fair 
heiress, and consequently would not have visited Ver- 
non to bring back word of Gibson.” 

"Little did I imagine that such strange consequences 
would arise from the incidents of that evening. Per- 
haps stranger things yet are to be developed there- 
from.” He was thinking of the fortune he had told for 
St. Clair’s sake, and which Clark had appropriated to 


THE SEARCH RESUMED. 173 

himself. Clark was thinking, too, of the influences of 
that night on his own affairs. 

“Well, what course will you now pursue?” 

“In a few hours I shall be on my way to Vernon. 
I shall vanish from here as suddenly as I appeared, and 
you alone will know when or to what point I have de- 
parted.” 

“In return for the aid I have been to you, I ask that 
when you with certainty locate Captain Brannan, you 
communicate with me before making public ex- 
posure.” 

“Impatient as I shall be to denounce and punish the 
villian, I agree to do as you request. I owe you much, 
and if by a little patience I can repay it I will do so.” 

“One thing more: Your consuming desire is to 
punish the destroyer of your home. Your purpose is 
to wreak dire vengeance by taking his life. Have 
you considered that such a course is very unwise? 
You have been forced to wait weary years for an op- 
portunity of vengeance; do not accomplish it in a 
moment. Let Brannan live and see that he is brought 
back to Fremont, his old home, to face public dis- 
grace among his neighbors and friends; then your 
revenge will be sweet and lasting. If you strike him 
down, he then knows nothing more, and you will only 
have the satisfaction of contemplating your act, be- 
hind prison bars, while awaiting your trial as a mur- 
derer. In such a case he would have the best of it, 
and your situation would be most miserable. Promise 
me that you will make no attempt on his life, but, in- 
stead, pursue the course I suggest.” 


HELENA. 


i;4 


‘^How can I resist the impulse to lay violent hands 
on the fiend as soon as I see him?” 

"‘By seeing how much sweeter revenge you can 
have by seeing him face the scorn and loathing of 
those who were his friends and associates. Promise 
what I ask, or I will warn Gibson of your purpose, and 
he will warn the one you seek and thus prevent your 
gaining any vengeance at all.” 

“Then I will promise to avoid violence. I never 
break my word, so you can rest satisfied that I will 
not depart from the course you have suggested.” 

Immediately after the departure of Clark, the for- 
tune-teller began packing in a large chest all the para- 
phernalia of his profession. On completing his work 
he procured a team and started with the chest to the 
nearest station. The rude chairs and tables he left in 
the cabin. Within three hours after his conversation 
with Herman Clark he was on his way to Vernon. 
Arriving there, he secured lodgings, but a sudden at- 
tack of his old rheumatic trouble confined him to his 
room for several weeks. More than two months 
elapsed before he was able to visit Alfred Gibson. 
Following the directions he had received, he proceeded 
to Tunnel Hill, distant about ten miles from Vernon. 
He found that the object of his search was a physician, 
running a small drug store. Stephen Pye entered the 
store, and while purchasing some cigars opened a con- 
versation by asking the proprietor if he was not an 
ex-soldier. 

As both had served in the Union army, they soon 
became interested in relating to each other remi- 


THE SEARCH RESUMED. 


175 


niscences of soldier-life. It was not long before Dr. 
Gibson (as he was here called) mentioned the name of 
the captain of his company. 

^‘Why, I met Captain Brannan at Knoxville during 
the war/’ said Stephen Pye. “lie must be the same. 
Do you know what became of him?” 

“No; I thought I recognized him one day in Ver- 
non, but on inquiring was told that the person was 
Judge Brown. Several times I have passed this judge 
on the streets, and been struck with his remarkable re- 
semblance to my old captain. So I call him Captain 
Brannan’s double.” 

“You think, then, that he is not Captain Brannan 
under an assumed name?” 

“I can imagine no good reason for such a course. 
Judge Brown is very popular and stands high in the 
community. Besides, he is a temperance fanatic, and 
Captain Brannan, when I knew him, was very much 
inclined to intemperance.” 

“Sometimes that kind of people become the strong- 
est temperance advocates. Perhaps he became dis- 
gusted with his habits and changed them and his name 
at the same time.” 

“I scarcely think such can be the case; but he is 
surely President Brannan’s double. I will soon have 
opportunity for a close inspection of him, as I have 
to stand trial week after next in his court for selling 
liquor. The law in this county is very strict against 
the sale of ardent spirits. In order to make a living, I 
have been secretly supplying whiskey to customers. I 
think I will plead guilty to the charge, as I know the 


176 


HELENA. 


case can be proven against me. I hope, by admitting 
the offense and promising not to violate the law again, 
that I may get off with a small fine.” 

“Doubtless that will be the best plan to pursue. 
Tell me the day and hour your trial is set for, and I 
will be there. I have some curiosity to see the Judge 
whom you call Brannan’s double. I knew Brannan 
so well that I may be able to tell if you are correct in 
representing such great resemblance. I shall stay in 
Vernon for a few weeks. My business is with the 
farmers, and I may have occasion to pass this way 
again soon; if so, I will call, as I like to chat with old 
soldiers.” 

“Very glad to see you any time you travel this 
way, and I will look for you at ten o^clock, a week from 
next Thursday, in Judge Brown’s court. I am anx- 
ious to have some one else who knew Brannan see 
this Judge Brown. Recently I wrote to Dr. Horn, of 
my old regiment, asking if he knew what had become 
of my old captain, and told him of Brown’s resem- 
blance. I have not received a reply. Be sure and 
come to my trial. Maybe you can find some way to 
influence Pres. Brannan’s double to be lenient towards 
me.” 

“I am powerless with the double,’ but if it should 
be Brannan himself, I am sure I could help you. I 
will not fail to attend the court at the time named.” 

Stephen Pye retraced his way to Vernon. He had 
learned all he desired for the present. He knew where 
to look, and would soon satisfy himself as to the iden- 
tity. He saw that Gibson had now come to believe 


THE SEARCH RESUMED. 


177 


that Judge Brown was not Pres. Brannan. At first 
he had thought they were the same, and so told the 
comrade he met at the soldiers’ reunion; but, after 
seeing the popularity and prominence of Judge Brown, 
had concluded that it was only a case of marked re- 
semblance. Stephen Pye, knowing there were reasons 
for Brannan’s assuming another name, felt confident 
that the Captain and the Judge were one and the same. 
He did not wish to take Gibson into his confidence. 
If Judge Brown had the birthmark on his left wrist, it 
would afford all the identification needed. 

We will now leave Stephen Pye to pursue his in- 
vestigation, the results of which will in due time ap- 
pear, while we return to our friends at Corinth. 


178 


HELENA 


CHAPTER XIX. 

MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 

Things are what they appear to be; or they neither are, 
nor appear to be ; or they are, and do not appear to be ; 
or they are not, and yet appear to be.” 

— Epictetus. 

In the pleasant home of Judge Triston, one evening 
in the early spring (and, by the way, on the very day 
that Stephen Pye had left the cabin for Vernon), Mrs. 
Brannan was seated alone in the library, musing over 
the past. It was now” nearly seven years since she 
saw her husband for the last time. Her thoughts were 
sad. Time mellows the grief borne for those who are 
taken from us by death. While we do not forget the 
dead, the sorrow passes away after years have elapsed; 
but when a dear one has mysteriously disappeared, 
and we can only conjecture as to when, how, or where 
death has occurred, it is much harder to cease griev- 
ing. As she was mournfully thinking of the unknown 
fate by which she was separated from her husband, 
Judge Triston entered the room. 

“Mrs. Brannan,” he said, “I have to-day received a 
letter from the representative of the insurance com- 
pany, concerning your claim under the policy on your 


MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 


179 


husband’s life, and I am glad to inform you that all 
difficulty is removed. A suit will not be necessary. 
The company is willing to pay the insurance on de- 
mand, after the expiration of seven years. As I have 
mentioned to you before, the law as interpreted by the 
Supreme Court presumes, if no trace is found of the 
missing one within seven years, that he is dead. It is 
only a very short time now until the seven years shall 
have elapsed.” 

“Sometimes the question arises in my mind, what 
if, after all, my husband should be alive? If I thought 
he was still living, and yet believed the fact would 
never be disclosed, I would not receive this insurance 
money. Lately, more than formerly, I have had a 
strange feeling of dread oppress me. Do you believe 
in presentiments?” 

“Yes; I am fully convinced that there is a spiritual 
telegraphy between persons even when at great dis- 
tances apart.” 

“Are you a believer in spiritualism?” 

“Emphatically, no. It is a baleful belief. It has 
done great harm, and in no instances proved bene- 
ficial. I believe that the spirits or souls of the living, 
not of the dead, sometimes exert an influence over us 
when the bodies are widely separated. I do not at all 
understand how this can be true, but I am sure that 
our spirits, in rare instances at least, do in some mys- 
terious way and through some unknown channel im- 
press the consciousness of those not bodily present.” 

“Can you explain what you mean? I do not grasp 
your thought at all.” 


i8o 


HELENA. 


“I can, by giving two instances in my own personal 
experience; but I promise no explanation to account 
for the medium of communication. I do not in the 
least understand the processes or powers by which 
the revelations were made. The first instance to 
which I will refer occurred a number of years ago, but 
is as distinct in every detail as if it had occurred but 
yesterday. I had been married but a short time, and 
was residing at a distance of half a mile from the home 
of my father and mother. Late one evening I left 
father’s house feeling that he was in unusual good 
health. That night some two hours after midnight, I 
was aroused from slumber by hearing the voice of my 
father calling my name, ‘William, William.’ It was in 
intense whispering accents of distress. I recognized 
my father’s voice with absolute distinctness. In an 
instant I was wide awake. Whether I had been awake 
or dozing just before, I cannot tell. Arousing my 
wife, I told her that I was certain my father was in 
some great trouble or distress — probably ill or dying. 
She reminded me that I had left him late in the even- 
ing in perfect health, and tried to persuade me that I 
had simply been dreaming. I was certain, however, 
that the spirit of my father had in some manner over- 
come space and spoken to me as if in my pres- 
ence. I could not rest, so I arose and began to dress, 
my wife all the time arguing with me that the impres- 
sion I had received could not be real. I, however, 
continued putting on my clothes, and just as I had 
finished the door bell rang. ‘There!’ I exclaimed to 
my wife; ‘I am sure now of some message from father.’ 


MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. l8l 

Hastening to the door, I was informed by a messenger 
tliat my father was dying. With great haste, I hur- 
ried to his home, and found him in a most critical 
condition. His first words were, ‘William, William! 
How my soul has cried out to see you, lest I should 
die without again looking into your face.** It was no 
more his voice now that spoke to me than was the 
voice I had heard in my room nearly an hour before. 
The physician, who had been sent for, arrived only a 
few minutes after I reached the bedside. Together we 
worked until morning with the sorely-stricken patient. 
Happily, the remedies applied proved efficacious. He 
recovered and lived many years afterward. 

“Now, I have no theory or explanation to ofler. I 
only know that father's soul or spirit spoke to mine, 
some time before the message conveyed by a human 
body reached my house." 

“Surely, a most startling experience, and one cal- 
culated to impress you deeply with the idea that some 
medium of mental telegraphing does exist. The fact 
that you conversed with your wife for several minutes 
about the matter before the arrival of the messenger 
makes it evident that it was not a mere dream-fancy 
caused by the sudden awakening at such an hour, with 
so startling a summons." 

“There was no fancy or delusion about it. All oc- 
curred precisely as I have stated. Now, for the other 
experience: Some years ago the pulpit in our church 
here became vacant, and I was selected by the other 
officers of the church to invite such ministers as I 
thought best to come and preach for us, with a view 


1^2 


HELENA* 


of their being called to the pastorate. It so hap- 
pened that about that time I met an old schoolmate, 
Henry Blackman, and in talking over our schoolboy 
days, and the mutual friends we had in our early teens, 
we came to speak of a particular chum, Jim Colyar, 
as we always called him. You now know him as the 
Rev. James Colyar, D. D., our pastor. I was sur- 
prised to learn from Mr. Blackman that Colyar had 
entered the ministry. As our paths in life had sep- 
arated when we were boys, I had not seen or heard 
of him for nearly seventeen years. For about two 
weeks Colyar was constantly in my mind. I was de- 
bating whether I should invite him to come from a 
distant State to preach for us. I did not know that 
he would even entertain the thought of making a 
change; nor did I know what kind of a preacher he 
was. I was naturally anxious, if my boyhood friend 
came, that he should please the people. So, day after 
day debating the matter, my thoughts were largely 
centered upon Colyar, who had not previously been 
in my mind for many years. Until Mr. Blackman 
told me of him, I did not know that he was even liv- 
ing. At length, I wrote, urging him to pay me a visit 
for a few weeks, and to preach for us while here, 
whether he desired or thought of a change of location 
or not. Now, as to the rest of my story, you can get 
Dr. Colyar and his wife to verify it. They have told 
me that the receipt of my letter produced a profound 
impression for the reason that for the two weeks be- 
fore that they had been frequently speaking of me, and 
wondering whether I was alive or dead. Dr. Colyar 


MENTAL TELEGRAPHY. 


133 


says that, though he had not thought of me for quite 
a number of years, his mind had constantly reverted to 
me for several days prior to the arrival of my letter, 
and that he had determined to trace me up if he pos- 
sibly could. Now, I know that you will believe my 
word and Dr. Colyar’s. How can you account for 
the fact that when my thoughts turned to Colyar, his 
turned to me, although neither had thought of the 
other for nearly twenty years — did not even have 
knowledge of each other’s existence. Can it be ac- 
counted for on any other hypothesis than that the 
spirit of one person has power to impress itself upon 
the spirit of another, even when widely separated by 
space.” 

“I cannot answer your question. The idea you 
have suggested is entirely new to me. Such a pos- 
sibility never occurred to my mind; and I am inclined 
HOW to hope there is no truth in your theory.” 

“Why?” asked Judge Triston. 

“Because recently I have vaguely felt affected by 
the personal presence of Mr. Brannan. I have as- 
sumed that these sensations are chargeable to a mor- 
bid state of mind; but if your belief in soul telegraphy 
is correct, I may be drawing near to some dread per- 
sonal experience of my own.” 

“You need not have any uneasiness, I think. Such 
experiences are rare. A thing may happen under 
certain conditions and circumstances, and yet not be 
the general rule. My theory may be true, and still 
not be exemplified except in very extraordinary in- 
stances. The spirit or soul of a person may not be 


184 


HELENA. 


able to strongly impress the spirit or soul of another 
with whom they are intimately and constantly asso- 
ciated. In such a case it would be impossible to im- 
press at a distance. It is only where the elements of 
soul affinity exist, whether friendly or unfriendly, that 
it would be possible for communication of any kind 
to occur. I do not believe in the universal power of 
mental telegraphy, but only that it exists in certain 
conditions of subtle relationship, or affinity in the 
spiritual organism of those between whom it manifests 
itself.’^ 


THE HARD HEART SOFTENED. 


185 


CHAPTER XX. 

THE HARD HEART SOFTENED. 

Stronger by weakness, wiser men become 
As they draw near to their eternal home: 

Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view 
That stand upon the threshold of the new.” 

— Waller. 

Herman Clark at the time of his visit to Philadel- 
phia had remained there but two days. On his re- 
turn to Memphis he related many fictitious stories of 
his experiences in the West, in order to cover up the 
truth of his having gone in the opposite direction. 
During his stay in Philadelphia every minute was oc- 
cupied in furthering the mission upon which he had 
come. With the aid of the detective, he procured an 
interview with the servant and trusted attendant of 
Jared Gardiner. He soon, by means of discreet con- 
versation and by generous bribery, won the confidence 
of the servant, and through him learned the mind of 
Mr. Gardiner with reference to his discarded niece. 
Long and painful illness had softened the bitterness 
of the past. The harsh and vengeful spirit had been 
broken. The servant told Mr. Clark that during the 
last year his master had, by letters and by advertise- 
ment, sought to come into communication with the 
widow and daughter of his brother; but no answer 


HELENA. 


1 86 

had come to the advertisements, and the letters had 
all been returned unclaimed. Clark well understood 
why the efforts had failed. The deep affliction that 
had come upon Mrs. Brannan led her into a strict 
seclusion from her neighbors, and when she departed 
for the home of Judge Triston, none of them had been 
informed of her destination. All letters directed to 
her former home had been returned. But for the se- 
vere illness, Mr. Gardiner would have made a journey 
to trace his relatives, so great was his present desire 
for reconciliation. Having gained a clear insight into 
the feelings of Mr. Gardiner regarding his relatives, 
Clark made bold to call and ask for an interview. It 
will be remembered that the returned letter which 
Katie had written to her uncle after her singular 
dream had been given to Clark to read. At the time, 
having an object in retaining it, he requested permis- 
sion to defer reading it, on the ground of not inter- 
rupting their conversation. With this letter, and his 
discreet and frank statement of his intimate acquaint- 
ance with Mrs. Brannan and her daughter, he at once 
gained the full confidence of Mr. Gardiner. In the 
course of more than an hour’s conversation he learned 
that the cousin who had been adopted as an heir had 
died, and that Mr. Gardiner’s intention (now that he 
had heard from his niece) was to make her his sole heir 
and legatee. He expected to live but a very short 
time, and he would that very day have his lawyer draw 
up the legal documents in due form. Being too un- 
well to write a letter, he sent warm and loving mes- 
sages to his niece and her mother, with many expres- 


THE HARD HEART SOFTENED. 


187 


sions of regret for the obstinacy and hardness of feel- 
ing exhibited in the past. His most urgent message 
was that they should at once come to see him, and 
gave full particulars how Mr. Clark’s bank should 
draw on him for any amount needed for the journey 
and in preparation for it. The strictest compliance 
with all his wishes was promised. 

Herman Clark had no intention, however, of giving 
any information to Mrs. Brannan or her daughter of 
the existence even of Jared Gardiner, until he had ac- 
complished his determination of securing the hand of 
the fair heiress. Immediately on his return home he 
wrote a long letter to Mr. Gardiner, telling him that 
his niece had been stricken down with typhoid fever, 
that her almost distracted mother was constantly at 
her bedside, and that, of course, he could not expect 
for the present any response to his kind messages; 
that the writer would keep him advised of the condi- 
tion of his niece, etc., etc., etc. Clark calculated from 
his own observation that Mr. Gardiner would not live 
many days, and felt safe in taking this course. While 
at brief intervals sending messages of the unconscious 
condition of Miss Gardiner, he was losing no time 
from the society of the young lady, and by every sug- 
gestion and plea possible was urging her to consent 
to an early marriage. He had the rare cunning to 
plead in such a manner as not to appear obtrusive, or 
at all offensive. At each visit he gradually gained 
advancement toward the object in view. Mrs. Bran- 
nan was a ready ally, not intentionally, but being per- 
suaded in her own mind that Mr. Clark would prove 


HELENA. 


1 88 

to be all that her daughter could desire as a life com- 
panion, she in many ways smoothed the way for 
Katie’s acquiescence in the wishes of her importunate 
lover. At length, Katie, with some reluctance, yet 
with no forebodings, consented to fix the date of her 
marriage to Herman Clark. She had grown to regard 
him with increasing favor, and experiencing pleasure 
and satisfaction in his company, she reasoned that her 
happiness, as well as his, would be attained by the con- 
summation of the pledge already given. It so hap- 
pened that the date selected was the very day on which 
the seven years from the disappearance of Captain 
Brannan would elapse. 

Now that the date of his nuptials was fixed, Clark 
had no uneasiness in reference to St. Clair as a suitor. 
Whether convicted or not, he was no longer in his 
way. The serious matter now demanding attention 
was the inheritance of the promised bride. 

Apprehensive of hearing any day of the death of 
Jared Gardiner, and of steps being taken by his lawyer 
to communicate directly with the heir, he hastened 
to prepare and have in readiness a forged power of 
attorney, to which the name of Katie Gardiner was 
signed, and duly acknowledged as her act and deed 
before Josiah Carter, Magistrate. The promise of a 
liberal division of the fortune had readily induced Mr. 
Carter (who had formerly been a magistrate) to assist 
in the preparation and execution of the document. 
This had all been done soon after his return from 
Philadelphia, the date being left blank — to be inserted 
when news of Mr. Gardiner’s death should come, At 


THE HARD HEART SOFTENED. 


189 


the time he was by no means certain that he would 
succeed in winning the hand of Katie Gardiner, and 
determined at all hazards to at least secure her for- 
tune. The power of attorney nominated and ap- 
pointed him as true and lawful agent, and attorney in 
fact, and gave him full power and authority to use 
and sign her name to any and all papers, and the same 
to be as binding as if done by her in her own proper 
person. To all appearances it was duly signed and 
acknowledged to be her free act and deed. 


190 


HELENA. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

TRIAL OF ST. CLAIR. 

He’s armed without, that’s innocent within.” 

— Pope, 

The second day after the departure of Stephen Pye 
was the day set for the trial of Harvey St. Clair on 
-the charge of forgery. The courthouse at Memphis 
was crowded. Judge Triston was on hand as counsel 
for the accused. His old schoolmate and friend, 
Major Henry Blackman, a celebrated criminal lawyer 

of C , who in his boyhood had known the family 

of St. Clair, having volunteered to assist in the de- 
fence, was present when the case was called. 

After all the preliminary steps had been taken in 
introducing the case, Mr. Josiah Carter was placed on 
the stand by the prosecution. He testified positively 
and emphatically that he had never signed any note 
for Harvey St. Clair, and that his name affixed to the 
note in question (which was shown to him) was a 
forgery. The cross-questioning of the defence in no 
way changed the positiveness of his statements that 
the signature on the note was not made by him. 

The next witness was James Carter, a son of Josiah 
Carter, who testified that he was present at the time 
the accused claimed the signature was made, and that 


TRIAL OF ST. CLAIR. 


I9I 

he was positive that his father had not attached 
his name to the note; that he was familiar with his 
father’s handwriting, and that the name as written on 
the note in court was not his father’s signature. The 
defence was unable in any way to alter the character of 
th'e statements made by this witness. 

Mr. Herman Clark was placed upon the witness 
stand. 

“Are you acquainted with the accused, Mr. St. 
Clair?” asked the prosecuting attorney. 

“Yes, sir; I have known him quite intimately for 
several years, and have always regarded him as an 
exemplary young man.” 

“Never mind your opinion of his character,” sternly 
ejaculated the attorney. “What is your occupation?” 

“I am teller in the bank.” 

“Have you such experience as to enable you to tell 
the genuineness of a signature with which you are 
familiar?” 

“Yes, sir; I do not think that I could easily be de- 
ceived in a signature that I had once examined.” 

“Please look at this note. As a bank official, you 
are doubtless familiar with the signature of Josiah 
Carter. Is the signature on the note genuine or not?” 

“I should judge it to be genuine, because I cannot 
conceive that Mr. St. Clair could possibly be a party 
to a fraud of any kind whatever; but I am not familiar 
with Mr. Carter’s signature.” 

“Have you never seen him sign his name to any 
paper?” 

“Yes; I remember that I witnessed his signature tg 


192 


HELENA. 


two petitions about a roadway in the county, but it 
was some time ago, and I have no recollection now as 
to how his name was written.” 

“Are you positive that you saw Mr. Carter sign those 
petitions?” 

“Yes, I attested his and other signatures on the 
papers referred to.” 

“Can you produce the petitions you speak of?” 

“Yes; I know where they are in the bank, and if I 
desired I can step across the street and get them in a 
moment. I had not thought of this before, but I feel 
assured that the signatures on these petitions will 
correspond with the one on the note.” The witness 
knew he had no right to make this comment, but for 
effect uttered it rapidly before the attorney could stop 
him. He was excused and in a few minutes returned 
to the stand with two papers in his hand. These were 
shown to the attorneys for the defense. 

“Now, Mr. Clark,” said the prosecuting attorney, 
“point out to the jury the signatures of Mr. Carter on 
these two petitions.” 

The witness did so. 

“Did you see Mr. Carter sign both of these papers?” 
“I did.” 

“Are the signatures similar?” 

“Precisely alike. I would know at a glance that 
whoever signed one also signed the other.” 

“Now, compare these signatures with the one affixed 
to the note. Did the same person sign the three 
papers?” 

The witness laid the note by the side of the othei 


TRIAL OF ST. CLAIR. 


193 


papers and looked from one to the other. His face 
flushed, and apparently making an effort to speak, he 
stammered and hesitated. 

“Speak out,” said the prosecuting attorney. “Tell 
the jury whether the signature on the note is similar 
to the ones on the petition.” 

“There — there is no similarity at all,” stammeringly 
answered the witness. 

“You are certain that you saw Mr. Carter sign his 
name to the two petitions?” 

“Yes.” 

“Could the signature on the note have been made 
by the same person who signed these petitions?” 

The witness remained silent, exhibiting a great deal 
of nervousness. 

“Answer,” said the lawyer. 

“The writing is so entirely different,” replied the 
witness slowly and, seemingly, with great reluctance, 
“that I cannot see how it would be possible for the 
same person to make the signatures on petition and 
note.” 

The three papers were passed to the jury, and each 
one showed by the expression of his face that he noted 
the dissimilarity in the signatures. 

The prosecuting attorney at the opening of the case 
had told the jury that the theory of the prosecution 
was that the accused, while associated with the bank, 
had committed the crime charged without intending 
that it should ever be known, expecting to take up the 
note at maturity. But losing his position, through self^ 


194 


HELENA. 


indulgence, he was unable to meet the obligation, and 
thus the forgery was made manifest. 

At the conclusion of Herman Clark’s testimony the 
prosecution rested its case. 

Judge Triston introduced John Gage, Joseph Barnard 
and several other friends of St. Clair to prove his good 
character. They all testified strongly as to his former 
reputation for honesty and uprightness of life, but had 
no knowledge whatever bearing upon the signature to 
the note. During the progress of the trial Major 
Blackman, the* famous criminal lawyer, who had so 
generously volunteered to come from a distance to 
defend the son of his boyhood friend, watched closely 
every incident of the trial. He took no part, except 
to suggest to Judge Triston from time to time some 
objection to be made or question to be asked. As the 
last witness for the defense was dismissed, he leaned 
over to Judge Triston, and in an undertone asked: 

“Who is that young man now leaning on the window 
sill in the rear of the room?” 

“That is Robert Carter, son of Josiah Carter, the 
prosecuting witness in this case,” replied Judge Tris- 
ton, after locating the one referred to. 

“I have been watching him for some time. He 
seems a little nervous and excited, and has been show- 
ing restlessness by moving from one place to another 
in the room. If he is the son of Josiah Carter, I am 
going to call him to the witness stand.” 

“Why, that would be ruinous — he will of course 
corroborate the testimony of his father and brother; 
Qur case is bad enough now.” 


TRIAL OF ST. CLAIR. 


195 


“Yes, it is so bad that the penitentiary door is stand- 
ing wide open for our client, and I don’t see that any- 
thing could make it worse. I will take all the responsi- 
bility of this step.” Arising, he addressed the court: 

“May it please your Honor, we desire to place Rob- 
ert Carter on the witness stand.” 

There was a buzz of surprise through the courtroom 
as the young man, pale and trembling, was led to the 
witness box by the sheriff. When he was sworn, 
Major Blackman arose facing the witness and began 
the examination. His keen, dark eyes flashing into 
the young man’s face, and forefinger pointing toward 
him to attract attention; he spoke in the impressive 
tones of a penetrating yet melodious voice. 

“What is your name?” 

“ Robert Carter.” 

“Are you the son of Josiah Carter and younger 
brother of James Carter, who have testified in this 
case?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“You understand the full solemnity of an oath, do 
you not?” 

“Yes.” The witness answered each question in a 
low voice, with downcast eyes. At this point he 
furtively glanced around the courtroom. 

“Look at me, sir,” exclaimed the lawyer, being ap- 
prehensive that if the witness caught the eye of his 
father some signal might be given to affect his state- 
ments. “Keep your eyes, young man, upon mine for 
a few minutes while I ask you a few questions. There, 
that is right. As I look into your young, innocent eyes 


196 


HELENA. 


I am sure you do understand the awful responsibility 
of an oath, and that you will answer truthfully. Now, 
sir, is it not true that one day last fall your father, your 
brother and you were out in one of your father’s fields 
loading corn into a wagon, and that the prisoner, Mr. 
St. Clair, came into the field where you were?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“On that occasion did you not see Mr. St. Clair take 
from his pocket a piece of paper about this size,” the 
lawyer here held up a promissory note, “and hand it 
to your father?” 

The witness nodded his head in assent, but seemed 
too nervous to speak. The quick eye of the lawyer 
saw that the jury had noted his affirmative answer, and 
continued his questions rapidly. 

“You also remember, do you not, seeing your father 
take from his pocket a yellow-backed memorandum 
book, rest it on his knee and place on it the paper Mr. 
St. Clair had handed to him, and then, taking from Mr. 
St. Clair a fountain pen, affix his signature to the 
paper? Did you not see that done?” 

“Yes,” faintly answered the witness. 

“Now, you were summoned as a witness for the 
prosecution in this case, but were not called to the 
stand. Is it not a fact that you and your father have 
had a serious quarrel about this case?” 

“We have had some words about it.” 

“Now, then, is it not true that your father has in- 
sisted upon your coming and swearing to what you 
knew was false, and that you refused, and that that 
has been the cause of a quarrel between you?” 


TRIAL OF ST. CLAIR. 


197 


‘^Yes, sir.’’ 

^‘You told him, did you not, that if you were put 
under oath you would tell the truth, and that is the 
reason you were not asked to testify for the prosecu- 
tion, is it not?” 

“I told him I would not swear to a lie, and I have 
not done so.” ^ 

“Have you any doubts about your father’s having 
signed the St. Clair note?” 

“None.” 

“May it please your Honor,” said Major Blackman, 
turning to the Judge, and for the first time removing 
his eyes from those of the witness, “we are done. A 
single word of comment is unnecessary to secure the 
honorable acquittal of the accused.” 

The jury without leaving their seats rendered a ver- 
dict of not guilty. On its anouncement, a very dis- 
tinguished looking personage, who had entered the 
court-room just as Robert Carter had been called to 
the stand, and who had been an attentive listener, ap- 
proached Major Blackman, and, clapping him on the 
shoulder, exclaimed: 

“Major, that was the finest coup-d’etat I ever saw 
in a court-room.” 

“Why, Senator, you here?” 

“Yes; I had business in town, and happened to enter 
the court-room just in time to witness your master 
stroke.” 

The one who paid this high compliment to his 
famous lawyer friend was then a distinguished member 
of the upper house of Congress, and afterwards a can- 
didate for Vice-President of the United States. 


19S 


HELENA. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

THE RAGING TADS. 

O, what men dare do ! what men may do I 
What men daily do, not knowing what they do !” 

— Shakespeare. 

John Gage and Harry Thorne, who had been pres- 
ent throughout the trial, were overjoyed at the result. 
Both threw their arms around St. Clair in the ecstasy 
of their happiness over the complete vindication of 
their friend’s honor. Josiah Carter and his son James 
slipped quietly out of the court-room, as the jury an- 
nounced the verdict, and, mounting their horses, left 
town without a moment’s delay. 

The indignation of all present was very great 
against them, and had they remained in sight they 
would have been subjected to indignity, and perhaps 
violence, from the hands of St. Clair’s friends. 

‘T have always been opposed to lynching,” ex- 
claimed Harry Thorne, when he and John Gage were 
seated in St. Clair’s room after leaving the court- 
house; “but here is an exceptional case. Nothing 
short of tar and feathers will satisfy my ideas of jus- 
tice.” 

“The conduct of Carter is infamous, and there can 
be no punishment too severe,” replied John Gage. “I 


THE RAGING TADS. 


199 


am impressed with the thought, however, that he is 
not the worst one engaged in this outrageous affair. 
I am slow to judge evil of any one without proof, but, 
if I am not greatly mistaken, another suggested and 
planned this whole effort to disgrace and injure our 
friend.’’ 

‘'Dou you refer to Herman Clark?” asked Thorne. 

‘‘Yes; I watched him closely when on the stand, 
and cannot longer be deceived by his hypocritical pre- 
tense of friendship for St. Clair. I now believe that he 
induced Carter to make the charge, and that they ar- 
ranged to have the signatures on the petitions differ- 
ent from the one on the note. I reach this conclusion 
because I know that the signature on the note is 
genuine, and therefore entirely different signatures 
on the petitions cannot be genuine. They were con- 
structed since your arrest, purposely to deceive, 
whether made by the hand of Mr. Carter or some one 
else. Such, at least, is my conviction.” 

“Your theory is plausible,” said St. Clair; “but we 
have no proof. If there was a conspiracy between 
Clark and Carter, they will not incriminate each other, 
and we shall always be left to our conjectures. The 
cupidity of the one, or the malice of the other, which- 
ever it was, has failed of its object. I am happy in 
being honorably acquitted, and have no time to spend 
in seeking revenge. I have been idle too long; and, 
as you informed me to-day that your father-in-law 
had written for me to come at once, if acquitted, to 
take the position your kindness secured for me, I in- 
tend to start for Vernon in the morning.” 


200 


HELENA. 


“Will you not come to Corinth to see your friends 
before leaving?” asked Harry Thorne. 

“No; 1 shall not have time.” 

How gladly he would have taken the time, if he had 
not known of the engagement of Herman Clark and 
Katie Gardiner! He had only a short time before 
learned that the day for their marriage had been fixed. 
It was a severe blow. His last meeting with Miss 
Gardiner, which had been more than a month previ- 
ous, was a pleasant one; and, although no word of a 
tender nature had ever passed between them, he then 
had hopes that in time he should win a response to his 
great but secret love for her. He remained resolute 
in his purpose not to visit any of his friends in Corinth 
v/hile under indictment, and, now that he was free and 
his name untarnished, he had no desire to go; but 
rather a longing to get as far away as possible, and 
the sooner the better. Gage knew of his bitter dis- 
appointment, and Thorne had some impressions of 
his feelings toward his fair friend. Both were deeply 
pained at what had occurred. Even should they have 
had no interest in St. Clair, they felt that the success- 
ful suitor was unworthy of the honor he was receiving. 

When, at length, St. Clair parted from his friends, 
in order to get ready for his journey on the morrow, 
Thorne and Gage remained together and resumed the 
discussion of Herman Clark’s probable connection 
with the effort to ruin Harvey St. Clair. 

“If Clark’s real character could be revealed, it would 
serve a good purpose to the community, as well as 
save your friend. Miss Gardiner, from a cruel fate; 


THE RAGING TADS. 


20t 


but I know of no means to accomplish such an end/' 
remarked Gage. 

“I tell you, Gage — why not resort to desperate 
means? Suppose we organize a secret vigilance com- 
mittee and arrange a plan to call Josiah Carter out of 
his house some dark night, overpower him, take him 
to some secluded spot, and force a confession from 
him. He deserves a coat of tar and feathers, but we 
need not proceed beyond a little rough handling and 
the fright it would give him. If we pretended to string 
him up on a limb unless he told the exact truth, he 
would be sure to tell whether any one acted with him 
in the matter of St. Clair’s arrest; and if he did tell 
the truth we should be able in some way to verify it 
for use.” 

“I am greatly opposed to unlawful means of obtain- 
ing information,” said Gage, very seriously. 

“So am I; but under extraordinary circumstances I 
may go beyond what my judgment approves. I don’t 
pretend to justify such proceedings, but the fact is, I 
never shall rest satisfied until I see that old scoundrel 
Carter, at least, scared half to death for what he has 
done, though nothing more is accomplished. 

“Now, I propose that to-morrow night you bring 
James St. Clair with you to the old log cabin on the 
cliff, and I will bring there four or five friends whom 
I can trust to enter heartily into any scheme I sug- 
gest. We need not now tell them of any special ob- 
ject in view. At our first meeting we can organize 
into a secret society, with signs and grips, and ar- 
range for such a character of initiation into our mystic 


202 


HELENA. 


circle as will afford a world of fun; and when the 
proper time comes we will find some way of giving old 
Carter an initiation he will never forget.’^ 

After Thorne had explained fully what he had in 
mind as to the society to be formed, Gage consented 
to invite James St. Clair to accompany him to the 
log cabin on the following night. 

All the next day Harry Thorne was busy at work 
drafting a ceremony of initiation for his proposed so- 
ciety. He had a bright and fertile mind, and in course 
of the day prepared a unique and startling ritual, cal- 
culated to afford royal fun to the initiated at the ex- 
pense of those seeking admission. He sent for a few 
of his most intimate associates, who readily fell into 
the spirit of his project. 

That night a jolly company, seven in number, was 
gathered in the old log cabin on the cliff. Blankets 
were hung over the windows, and seven lanterns (each 
having brought one) were placed around the wall, af- 
fording ample light. Harry Thorne presented his 
previously arranged plan of organization and ritual 
of initiation, which, with some changes and additions, 
were adopted. The selection of a name for their mys- 
terious society caused a lengthy discussion, but they 
finally settled upon the euphonious title of “The 
Raging Tads.” Harry Thorne was unanimously 
chosen as King of the Tads, James St. Clair as Vice- 
King, Frank Burton as Past King. The positions of 
Chaplain, Secretary, Guide and Sentinel were filled 
by the other four present. The seven constituted the 
charter members, and all others who sought admis- 


THE RAGING TADS. 


203 


sion must undergo the rigid initiation adopted before 
enjoying the exalted honor of being a “Raging Tad.’’ 
Committees were appointed to procure all the para- 
phernalia needed. They then adjourned until Thurs- 
day night of the next week. At the second meeting 
several initiations occurred, and a night of rare fun 
was enjoyed by the originators of the new and won- 
derful order. Soon wild reports were in circulation 
about the “Raging Tads,” but their place of meeting 
could not be discovered. The members were quietly 
circulating rumors that they claimed to have heard 
about the weird orgies at the meetings of ‘the Tads. 
Each of them professed a desire to find'OUt about 'the 
mysterious order, and would tell on all propitious oc- 
casions some strange and wonderful story that they 
had heard. The news rapidly spread, till it became 
the common talk among town and country boys in 
and around Corinth and Memphis. Frequent meetings 
were held, but the greatest secrecy was observed, and 
the public knew nothing beyond the flying rumors. 
Occasionally there would be a placard posted upon the 
door or dwelling of some worthless vagabond, bearing 
the words, “Beware of the Raging Tads.” Emphasis 
was added to these warnings by the fact that a good- 
for-nothing drunken wretch, who had cruelly whipped 
his wife, had been taken by the Tads, and ducked in 
the river until he was almost drowned. 

According to rumor, the Tads numbered more than 
a hundred. The evil-doers were trembling in fear of 
a visitation, and the good citizens were alarmed at the 
existence of a lawless spirit in their midst. The real 


204 


HELENA. 


membership was less than twenty, and the additions 
to the original seven had been cautiously selected. 
Harry Thorne and his companions knew who could 
be trusted, and they did not intend that any real mis- 
chief should be done. They had an object, and were 
working to it all the time, but as yet only three be- 
sides Harry Thorne knew of any intention to bring 
Josiah Ca-rter within the power of the Raging Tads. 


TRAGIC SCENE IN COURT. 


205 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

TRAGIC SCENE IN COURT. 

** Fate is above us all ! 

We struggle, but what matters our endeavor? 

Our doom is gone beyond our own recall. 

May we deny or mitigate it? never.” 

— Miss Landon. 

Harvey St. Clair had now been in his new posi- 
tion at Vernon nearly three months, and was giving 
satisfaction beyond any expectations of his employer, 
notwithstanding the sanguine hopes which had been 
aroused by John Gagers encomiums of his friend. 

Mr. Barnard had taken St. Clair to his own home, 
and his situation was in every way calculated to give 
him happiness; but happiness had fled from his life. 
Ah! who can tell of the blight that comes to the inner 
life of one who loves with every fibre of his being, and 
realizes that the object of that love can never more 
have part or place in his existence! Outwardly, he 
was brave, applying every energy of body and mind 
to the duties of his position. His only hope was that 
constant occupation, and Time, the great consoler, 
would in course of years deaden the gnawing pain at 
his heart. About six weeks after his arrival, he was 
greatly surprised one day on going home to find that 


206 


HELENA. 


John Gage and his wife, accompanied by Rose Ger- 
man, had just arrived on a visit. Mrs. Gage had be- 
come greatly attached to Rose, was always delighted 
to have her a guest at Meadow Farm, and had pre- 
vailed upon her to make a visit to her father’s home. 
St. Clair was glad to see them; they were his truest 
and dearest friends; but the thought of Rose’s having 
come from Corinth, from the presence of his lost idol, 
caused a flood of bitter memories to arise, almost un- 
manning him. By a strong effort of will, he succeeded 
in hiding all signs of weakness, and faring the ordeal 
with courage. His first inquiry, after a hearty greet- 
ing, was about her friend, Katie. 

‘'I am surprised, sir,” replied Rose, who had no sus- 
picion of St. Clair’s being in love with Miss Gardiner, 
“that you ask about her first; for she was complaining 
of your indifference and neglect in not giving her an 
opportunity to express her delight at your complete 
vindication in court.” 

“It gives me pleasure to know that she thought of 
me. I supposed all her thoughts were occupied with 
another,” he answered, with a faint attempt at smiling. 

“You don’t know her. She is not the kind to lose 
interest in a friend. She was overjoyed when the 
news of your acquittal was received, and declared that 
she was positive all the time in her belief that you were 
not, and could not be, guilty of a deliberate crime. 
But we were all of that opinion.” 

“I am delighted to hear that I was not condemned 
simply because I was accused. But, to change the sub- 


TRAGIC SCENE IN COURT. 


207 


ject from myself, I understand that your friend is soon 
to be married.” 

“Yes; and a much earlier date has been fixed than 
Katie desired. While I have seen no signs of dis- 
satisfaction at the step she is taking, still I am sure 
Katie was in no hurry to lose her membership in the 
Old Maids’ Club. It appears, however, that her 
mother seconded the importunity of Mr. Clark, and 
together they induced her to accede to an early date. 
The reason assigned, I believe, was that Mr. Clark 
had fallen heir to a considerable fortune in the East, 
and would have to go there to take possession of it, 
which he was unwilling to do, unless he could take 
his bride with him.” 

“I trust she will be perfectly happy in the union 
she is forming,” said St. Clair, apparently calm, but 
inwardly a fierce rebellion against fate was raging. 

“Oh, I think so. Mr. Clark seems to possess ad- 
mirable qualities, and displays all the eagerness and 
devotion that could be expected in a lover.” 

St. Clair fpund himself unequal to the task of further 
discussing the subject, and addressed a question to 
John Gage, who was seated near by conversing with 
his father-in-law. 

“There is now but one matter of absorbing interest 
at your old home,” answered Gage, “and that is con- 
cerning the Raging Tads.” He thereupon gave a 
graphic account of the strange and wonderful rumors 
in circulation about this new, mysterious order. The 
obligation of the society prevented his telling that he 
was a member, even if he had been willing to do so. 


208 


HELENA. 


He was not in sympathy with the idea underlying 
such organizations, and was glad to get away at this 
time, as he knew that the King of the Tads had de- 
termined to no longer delay the purpose of bringing 
Josiah Carter into the toils of the mystic band. He 
had the fullest sympathy with the end in view, but not 
with the means employed. Mr. Barnard and Harvey 
St. Clair were both emphatic in their disapproval of 
such an organization. St. Clair would have been 
equally opposed to it had he known that its object was 
mainly in his interests, but of this he knew nothing. 

The next day as Gage and St. Clair were walking 
along the street, on their way to the latter’s place of 
business, they met Alfred Gibson. He was delighted 
to meet some one from his old Henderson county 
home, and detained him in a lengthy conversation, 
in the course of which he told them of his trouble in 
court. 

“My trial will take place day after to-morrow — will 
you not both come?” asked Gibson as they were 
separating; “I have no friends here, and though you 
are almost strangers, still, you are from my boyhood 
home, and I am sure from that fact you feel some 
interest in me. Your presence might help me; at 
least. I’ll feel better to have somebody I can advise 
with.” 

“We cannot hope to be of any service to you,” re- 
plied St. Clair, “but if you wish it we will attend. I 
have been in trouble myself, and can never forget the 
comfort I derived from the presence of friends.” 

How strangely things occur in this life! When St. 


TRAGIC SCENE IN COURT. 


209 


Clair and Gage passed on they laughed at the idea of 
having promised to attend the trial of Alfred Gibson. 
They knew nothing about him, or the fact of his guilt 
or innocence, but his earnest importunity had pre- 
vailed, and their word having been given, its fulfilment 
was a necessity from their standpoint of absolute 
honor to any promise made. 

On the day named, Harvey St. Clair and John Gage 
appeared in the court-room a few minutes before 10 
o’clock. Alfred Gibson, accompanied by one unknown 
to either St. Clair or Gage, soon after entered and 
took his seat. Both of them had seen the fortune- 
teller, but in his altered appearance had no thought 
that the man with Gibson was the same personage 
that had taken the role of the seer in the log cabin on 
the cliff. Judge Brown entered and took his seat on 
the bench. A number of cases were rapidly disposed 
of. At length the name of Alfred Gibson was called, 
and St. Clair and Gage at once concentrated their at- 
tention. 

The accused hesitated for a moment about accepting 
a proffer from the prosecuting attorney to enter a plea 
of guilty and receive a nominal fine of ten dollars im- 
posed, as was the custom in such cases. It seemed to 
him possible that, at the last moment, the boys who 
were witnesses against him might shirk in their evi- 
dence and make it convenient not to remember buy- 
ing the drinks; he would thereby come clear. He an- 
nounced, “Ready for trial.” The witnesses plumbed 
the mark straight, swore to getting the drinks and pay- 


210 


HELENA. 


ing for them as charged in the indictment. This set- 
tled it. The Judge said: 

“Dr. Gibson, stand up and receive the sentence of 
the court. There are cases of the violation of the laws 
of the land without a single mitigating circumstance. 
You, sir, do not belong to the common herd. You are 
an educated man, with an M. D. attached to your 
name, and cannot plead the lame excuse that poverty 
caused you to violate a plain law. You have let 
avarice and greed lead you to doing so, and the judg- 
ment of this court is that in each of the three cases 
you pay a fine of one hundred dollars, and that you 
stand committed to the jail of this county until said 
fines and the cost of each of the proceedings are paid 
or replevied.” 

Dr. Gibson was amazed at the severity of the sen- 
tence. 

As the Judge finished speaking, he raised his right 
hand to his head and pushed his hair up from his fore- 
head. This motion caused his coat sleeve to draw up 
on his arm, thereby exposing a liver-colored birthmark 
that started from the second joint of the thumb and 
covered nearly half the wrist. 

“See the mark, Gibson,” whispered Stephen Pye, 
who sat just behind him. “It is Captain Brannan. 
Denounce him.” 

“Hold a minute!” exclaimed Dr. Gibson, “you claim 
to be Judge Brown, do you not?” 

“Certainly, sir,” impatiently retorted the Judge. 

“It is false. You are Captain Pressley Brannan. I 
was a member of ^our company in the war. I know 


TRAGIC SCENE IN COURT. 


2II 


the birthmark on your wrist just now disclosed. That 
mark I can swear belongs to none other than Captain 
Brannan. I denounce you as a fraud and an im- 
poster.’" 

The scene was intensely dramatic. Dr. Gibson, as 
he uttered the last sentences, rose to his feet and lean- 
ing forward pointed his forefinger at the judge. His 
voice was clear and ringing, filling the courtroom and 
startling every one present. The Judge turned deathly 
pale and seemed for a moment unable to speak. 

*‘The accused,” he at length said, in a low and hesi- 
tating tone, is “drunk or insane. Let the judgment of 
the court be entered.” 

The Judge arose, saying, “The Court stands ad- 
journed,” and quickly passed from the court-room 
through a door leading into a small room at the rear 
of the bench. 


212 


HELENA. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE avenger’s FATE. 

“Revenge, at first though sweet, 

Bitter ere long, back on itself recoils.” 

— Milton. 

Dr. Gibson, smarting under the heavy fines im- 
posed and more particularly at the moral lecture which 
had been given him, strode out into the courthouse 
yard and into a crowd of men discussing the incident 
which had just occurred in the courtroom. 

“Gentlemen,” said Dr. Gibson, “do you know who 
that infernal scoundrel is that you have on the bench as 
judge?” 

“Yes,” spoke out one of the crowd, “I know it is 
Judge Brown, and he is the best judge we have had 
for a long time.” 

“Judge Brown be hanged ! He is an impostor. His 
name is Presley Brannan. Tell me I don’t know, 
when I soldiered with him for three years and he was 
the captain of my company. I tell you that I know 
it is Brannan, and not Brown. He is an infamous 
fraud and a contemptible scoundrel, and I will prove 
it to you before I am done with him.” 

The crowd became very indignant at this language, 
and threatened Dr. Gibson with violence if he did not 


THE avenger’s FATE* 


213 


Stop traducing Judge Brown, who was a great favorite 
with the people. A personal altercation was imminent 
when a friend of Dr. Gibson, who had been arranging 
to replevy the fines imposed, appeared and called him 
away from the crowd. Soon afterwards Dr. Gibson 
mounted his horse and went to his home at Tunnel 
Hill, ten miles distant. That night he wrote a second 
letter to Dr. Horn, in which he said, ‘T can now posi- 
tively say that Presley Brannan, of whose disappearance 
you told me in reply to my former letter, is here, under 
the assumed name of J. A. Brown, and is judge of the 
court at Vernon, Johnson county, in this State. I see 
nothing changed about him except his hair and beard. 
When I last saw him in the army both were jet black; 
now they are nearly snow white. His actions, voice, 
manner, and particularly the liver-colored birthmark 
on his right wrist and extending up the arm towards 
the elbow — all are those of Presley Brannan.” 

That same night, Stephen Pye, who had remained in 
Vernon, called at the residence of Judge Brown. He 
was ushered into the parlor, and in a few minutes the 
Judge entered. The visitor, who was sitting by the 
door opening from the hall, the only doorway in the 
room, arose, turned the key, removed it from the lock, 
and then resumed his seat.” 

“What do you mean, sir?” exclaimed the Judge, in 
indignant tones and with threatening looks. 

“I wish a private interview — one where there will 
be no opportunity for interruption.” 

"‘Who are you, sir?” 

“I am Stephen Pye.” 


214 


HELENA. 


The Judge involuntarily started, but almost instantly 
spoke in fearless tones : 

“That may be your name, but does not tell me who 
you are; both the name and your face are unknown to 
me. 

“Sit down,” said the visitor. “I do not intend any 
personal violence to you now, although I have sought 
you for eight long years with but one intent — to wreak 
swift and terrible vengeance at first sight of you; but 
I have promised to postpone my final settlement with 
you until your identity is made public, as that will help 
the cause of a friend of mine.” 

“You are some madman. I have done you no 
harm that you should seek vengeance upon me. You 
have mistaken the place, if anyone has injured you. 
I am Judge Brown. Whom are you seeking?” 

“I am not seeking Judge Brown, but Captain Bran- 
nan. Have you ever heard of him?” 

“No.” 

“You lie. You are Captain Brannan, who despoiled 
my home and ruined my life,” he cried, with impetuous 
anger. He saw that the Judge would admit nothing, 
but deny everything. His rage had been steadily in- 
creasing at the cool answers of the Judge; until now all 
the passion of his soul was aroused. His face worked 
convulsively, and the veins stood out upon his hands 
and neck. He sprang to his feet, hissing through his 
teeth, “I’ll kill you now, though I intended to wait.” 

The Judge arose to defend himself, stepping quickly 
back to escape the onslaught; but the man made only 
one step, and then his body swayed — and ashy color 


THE avenger’s FATE. 


215 


Spread over his face. The terrible power of his frenzy 
had overtaxed the strength of his physical constitution, 
and paralysis intervened to stay the uplifted hand of 
vengeance. He sank helpless to the floor. The Judge 
saw at a glance that he had nothing now to fear. He 
raised the fallen man and placed him upon a sofa. 
Unwilling to summon a physician for fear of disclos- 
ures that might be made, he sought to ascertain for 
himself the extent of the paralytic stroke. He had 
much general knowledge about cases of this kind, and 
soon satisfied himself that, while the stroke was un- 
usually severe, it affected only the body, not the mind. 
The man was entirely conscious and suffered no bodily 
pain. The tongue and throat were so affected that 
the power of speech was gone forever. The Judge 
became satisfied that, while he might live for a few 
days, there was no chance for recovery. The eyes of 
the stricken man looked with hate into those of the 
one bending over him, and his fruitless effort to speak 
told how bitter would be the words of denunciation. 
While moved with some feelings of compassion for the 
helpless wreck before him. Judge Brown was incensed 
at the malignity displayed. Taking a seat by the side 
of the lounge and looking into the eyes of his defence- 
less enemy, he said: 

“Your eight years’ pursuit of vengeance has come to 
an unexpected ending. You have gained nothing and 
lost your life. Even the slight satisfaction of de- 
nouncing me is denied you. How much more profit- 
ably your time might have been spent.” 

The answering look of derision and contempt 


2i6 


HELENA. 


seemed to say, “You, of all men, have no right to 
preach,"’ and the Judge understood the thought in the 
man’s mind. 

“Whatever,” he continued, “my own moral obliq- 
uities have been and are, I am at least in a condition 
now to impress upon your mind, in your last hours, 
the folly and futility of the course you have pursued. 
I emphasize this, not for your good nor for mine. 
I am not preaching nor moralizing; I am getting even. 
You sought my death, but failed. I now seek to pay 
you back in kind. I will not strike at your body, as 
you would have done at mine. Your body is already 
insensible to pain, but your mind is still capable of 
suffering, and as I believe you are the sole cause of 
what occurred in court to-day, I would not spare you 
a single pang that may be added to your now full 
cup of chagrin and mortification at the failure of your 
plans. 

“Now that you are speechless and dying, I have no 
fear of exposure. Even had you not been stricken 
and had I escaped your murderous assault, I should 
have had you placed in a madhouse, where the keeper 
would have done my bidding in all things. I can 
easily satisfy Dr. Gibson, and this whole community 
will stand by me. To you, and to you alone, in your 
condition, I will admit that I am Presley Brannan, 
and that J. A. Brown is an assumed name.” 

The expression on the face of the paralytic spoke 
volumes. How he longed for life and strength! How 
his eyes glittered with the conflicting emotions of 
hatred and helplessness! He tried to turn away from 


THE AVENGER’S FATE. 


217 

the look of triumph which his eyes could read in those 
of his tormentors, but his ears could not shut out the 
merciless tones that fell upon them. 

“I will tell you more, not in excuse for myself or 
with desire to place blame upon another, but that you 
may know how little cause you had all these years to 
nurse your desire for vengeance against me. I want 
you to feel how much better it would have been if you 
had forgotten your wife as she forgot you, and had 
sought some one else, in whose true love you might 
have found contentment. I make no excuse for my- 
self; I do not care at all what you think of me. Did 
I rob you of your wife? In one sense, yes; in another, 
no. I see by your look that you regard me as one 
who invaded your home, and by the arts of the liber- 
tine won an innocent, confiding woman away from 
her sacred love. You are mistaken. I will tell you 
the truth; then you can die, knowing how useless was 
your frenzied hatred of me. When visiting at your 
home I never spoke of love to Madeline, or made a 
single overture in the way of attentions, beyond the 
most ordinary interchange of civilities. After a while 
I noticed that she exhibited signs of fondness for my 
society. I then absented myself as much as possible 
from her home; not that I had any compunctions of 
conscience in the matter, but I did not then wish any 
entanglements. She complained of the long intervals 
between my visits, but I did not shorten them, and 
I did not dream of ever interfering with the rela- 
tions existing between you and her. One afternoon I 
called, after an absence of several weeks, and while 


2i8 


HELENA. 


there a heavy rainstorm came up, which caused me 
to accept a cordial invitation ti supper. I was not 
hungry, and ate sparingly. Your wife was very so- 
licitous, imaginging that I was unwell. The storm 
continued till late in the night, and at the urgent re- 
quest of your father and mother, as well as Madeline, 
I consented to remain over night. I retired to my 
room about ten o’clock. Near midnight I heard a 
sound, as of the opening of my room door. The lamp 
was burning low, and when I turned my eyes toward 
the door I saw a figure in white enter. Softly it came 
to the side of my couch. It was Madeline, arrayed 
only in her night robe. She placed her soft, white 
hand on my brow and gently stroked it. 

T was so afraid that you were ill that I could not 
sleep,’ she said. 

“‘Oh, I am perfectly well; go back to your room 
at once, my friend,’ I replied. 

“ ‘Why, you ate nothing at supper, and I was so 
uneasy about you,’ and with that she pressed a burn- 
ing kiss upon my lips and encircled her bare arms 
around my neck, and rested her throbbing bosom on 
my breast.” 

“ ‘For your sake, I beg of you to go!’ I cried. 

“ ‘Oh! do not drive me away! I love you better than 
life or honor. It will kill me to leave you;’ and she 
nestled closer and closer, covering my face with im- 
passioned kisses.” 

He paused to note the effect of this tale of shame. 
No language can describe the anguish depicted on 
the tortured brow of the stricken avenger. 


THE avenger's FATE. 


219 


'‘What she did was all wrong; what I did was all 
wrong. There is no excuse, no palliation. It was a 
crime against society, against purity, and against re- 
ligion, if there is such a thing. But neither she nor I 
was held back by moral restraints. We followed the 
dictates of love, as many others have done. Had she 
met another whom she loved better, she would have 
left me as she did you, and as I did her for awhile. 
This is not a story of a fall from high state of purity, 
for neither of us was ever pure. She has remained 
true to me because she loved me. I do not blame her 
for her course, for I was no better than she. You 
know that what I have related is true, for she told you 
when you once found her while searching for me, that 
she had never loved you. You can see now that your 
mission of hate and vengeance has not been any more 
happy or praiseworthy than our mission of unholy 
love and indulgence. You sought eagerly for ven- 
geance, but failed. I have had my hour in which to 
return evil for evil done and intended. I leave you 
now, and will never see you again, but I will arrange 
to have you cared for until you are laid away under 
the sod.’' 

Alone the poor, stricken body lay in the quiet par- 
lor. The still more stricken soul searched through all^ 
the chambers of memory for the records of the seven 
years of unrest and bitterness and thirst for vengeance. 
The anguishing cry arose, “All, all in vain but there 
was no voice to give it utterance. After a little time 
the mental struggle seemed to gradually subside. The 
body relaxed somewhat, and over the eyes a softer, 


220 


HELENA. 


gentler expression came; the lips parted and almost 
imperceptibly moved, and the angels heard the faint 
whisper: 

course was all wrong. ^Vengeance is mine,’ 
saith the Lord. IVe had my punishment at the hands 
of one with whom God himself hath yet to deal.” 

Half an hour later the door opened, and the one 
sent to care for the unbidden guest found that the vis- 
itor of the night was dead. The earthly fortune of 
the fortune-teller was all told. He had gone to a 
realm where there was no need of almanacs to mark 
the recurrence of day and night, to a realm of either 
eternal day or eternal night. 


THE UNEXPECTED MESSAGE. 


221 


CHAPTER XXV. 


THE UNEXPECTED MESSAGE. 


The heart bowed down by weight of woe, 
To weakest hope will cling.” 


—Balfe, 


Harvey St. Clair and John Gage were amazed be- 
yond measure at the occurrence in the court-room. 
They knew the story concerning the disappearance 
of Mrs. Brannan’s husband, seven years previous, but 
had accepted the general belief that the missing one 
was dead. Now, to hear it boldly proclaimed that the 
popular Judge Brown of Vernon was none other than 
the long-lost Captain Brannan aroused their deepest 
interest and a determination to ascertain the truth of 
the matter. 

Passing from the courthouse to the street, they 
made inquiry as to who were the most intimate ac- 
quaintances of Judge Brown. They were informed 
that Mr. Rydnour, an attorney at law, was probably 
the oldest and closest friend of the Judge. Repairing 
to his office, the two excited and anxious young men 
introduced themselves to the lawyer and told him 
of the singular charge that had just been uttered in 
the court-room. The lawyer was incredulous that so 
preposterous a statement should have been made. 


222 


HELENA. 


“Why,” he exclaimed, “the man is beside himself. 
Judge Brown is no imposter. He is an upright, hon- 
orable gentleman, and is quite an old citizen here.” 

“How long have you known him?” asked St. Clair. 

“Let me see. He has been on the bench over three 
years. Before that he was for a number of years em- 
ployed at a large cooper-shop here. At first he worked 
at splitting and sawing hoops, but the proprietor, soon 
discovering that he was a good accountant, made him 
bookkeeper of the establishment. He held this place 
until he was elected Police Justice of our town. In 
that office he displayed such ability and gave such evi- 
dence of his fitness for judicial duties that he was 
chosen to the office, which he now holds, of County 
Judge. I have known him for about ten years, and I 
can assure you he is not the kind of a man to live 
under an assumed name.” 

“Are you quite sure he has lived here longer than 
seven years?” asked Gage. 

“No doubt of that,” replied the attorney, and he was 
honest in making the statement. His acquaintance 
with Judge Brown seemed to cover a much longer pe- 
riod than was actually the case. “There is nothing in 
the statement you heard in court. No one here would 
listen to it a moment. A fancied resemblance, magni- 
fied by anger and resentment, is all there is in it.” 

The two friends went away satisfied, agreeing to 
make no mention of the matter whatever when it could 
by any chance reach the ears of their acquaintances in 
Corinth. 

That evening St. Clair received a message, imparted 


THE UNEXPECTED MESSAGE. 


223 


to him by Rose German, which tortured, but at the 
same time pleased him. At Mr. Barnard’s home, the 
family and a small party of friends were assembled in 
the parlor, enjoying Miss German’s music, as she 
obligingly and untiringly played and sang. All were 
charmed with her rich, sweet voice, as, one after an- 
other, beautiful songs of love and sentiment were ren- 
dered in soulful strains. St. Clair stood beside her, 
turning the pages. His heart was sad and 
mournful as he thought of that one, now forever lost 
to him, who could have sung a song of love to him 
sweeter than any other earthly music. The singing he 
heard was exquisite, but that which he longed in his 
soul to feel would have been far more entrancing. He 
kept a brave and cheerful face, but his heart was weary 
and wretched. At length Miss Rose turned from the 
piano, saying: 

“I think I have earned a rest now. Come, Mr. St. 
Clair, let us sit down by the window. I have some- 
thing to tell you.” He escorted her to a seat in the 
large bay-window, where their conversation would be 
wholly uninterrupted, and would not interfere with the 
talk of the others. 

^T received a letter to-day, and it contained a mes- 
sage to you. Can you not guess whom it is from?” 

‘T am quite at a loss. I’ll venture the guess, how- 
ever, that it is from Lizzie Gage.” 

^^A poor venture. The writer is Katie Gardiner.”’ 

He started. A shade of pain passed over his face, 
but was unnoticed. The one who was in his every 


224 


HELENA. 


thought by day and by night, and yet the last one that 
he would have expected a message from. 

''Indeed?” with an effort to speak calmly. “Has 
she sent me an invitation to her wedding?” 

“Still a bad guesser, yet your question reminds me 
of what had not occurred to me before. She does not 
even mention that subject — the one I would suppose to 
be the uppermost in her thoughts, as the date fixed is 
so near at hand.” 

"So I should have thought.” He was wild to know 
what word was sent to him, but restrained all signs of 
interest. Rose was ignorant of his love for her friend. 
She knew he had paid Katie some attentions previous 
to his arrest, but since that time he had not been to 
Corinth, and Rose believed that he had no other feel- 
ings towards Katie than those of ordinary friendship. 

“Well, her message to you is an invitation, but not to 
her marriage. It is to a meeting of the Old Maids’ 
Club at Judge Triston’s a week from next Thursday. 
As she knew I was to return the first of the coming 
week, she has arranged for a gathering of all the 
friends who were present at the first open meeting of 
the club.” Reading from the letter: “Tell Mr. St. 
Clair that I think his departure for Vernon without 
saying good-bye to his friends here was very unkind. 
They desired very much to express their pleasure in 
his vindication. However, we will forgive him that 
offense if he will apologize by accepting the invitation 
I send through you. Please add your request to mine 
for his acceptance.’ You surely will not say nay when 
two of the famous nine old maids unite in the invita' 


THE UNEXPECTED MESSAGE. 225 

tion. Mr. Gage and I will both ask Mr. Barnard to 
grant you a brief vacation. It would add greatly to 
our pleasure if you could return with us and be present 
at the party.” 

St. Clair listened with mingled feelings of delight 
and despair. She had not forgotten him, yet was 
promised to another. How could he endure to see 
her now! Yet how could he live without seeing her 
again! Such thoughts raged through his mind, but, 
outwardly, he showed no signs of disturbance. When 
Rose ceased speaking he had made up his mind, and 
answered promptly: 

‘‘If Mr. Barnard can spare me for a few days I shall 
take pleasure in accepting the kind invitation.” He 
felt that it would be pain and not pleasure; but he must 
see her once more, if it killed him. 


226 


HELENA. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

CONFESSION OF CRIME. 

‘‘To what gulfs 

A single deviation from the track 
Of human duties leads.” 

— Byron. 

“Guiltiness would speak, tho’ tongues were out of use.” 

— Shakespeare. 

On the following Tuesday, John Gage and wife, 
Harvey St. Clair and Rose German reached their re- 
spective homes. St. Clair spent the time at his old 
home in the country, battling in soul for strength for 
the ordeal of meeting the loved one, now lost to him 
forever. 

He found his brother James in a state of restlessness 
and mental excitement, but could not obtain a satis- 
factory explanation of the mood. James denied that 
he was nervous or disturbed about anything. The 
fact was that Harvey’s unexpected visit was considered 
very inopportune by his brother. The latter, in con- 
nection with Harry Thorne, Frank Burton and a dozen 
others had arranged for some decisive work under 
cover of their secret clan, the Raging Tads. It was 
known that Harvey St. Clair was bitterly opposed to 
organizations of this kind and would interfere by 


CONFESSION OF CRIME. 


227 


giving warning, if he discovered the designs contem- 
plated. The real and only purpose of the secret so- 
ciety was to discover and punish all who had a hand 
in putting the shame of arrest and trial upon Harvey 
St. Clair. He knew nothing of this object, and would 
have been all the more opposed to the movement if he 
had known it. James St. Clair and his associates, be- 
lieving that Josiah Carter’s prosecution of Harvey St. 
Clair had been instigated by one more cunning than 
he, were seeking positive proof of the truth of their 
suspicions. Their plans had all been laid and matured 
to make the final stroke on this very week. The 
clan was to meet on W ednesday night in the log cabin 
on the cliff to initiate Josiah Carter into the mysteries 
of the secret order. He had been easily persuaded to 
seek admission by the intimation from one of the 
members that a certain man (whom they knew Carter 
hated intensely) had fallen under the ban of the so- 
ciety, and that he could have a hand in the ducking to 
be administered to his enemy. 

The rendezvous of the Tads had not been discovered. 
Owing to the secluded location of the cabin and the 
precaution of heavy blankets having been closely fitted 
over the inside of the windows, no light was ever seen 
to attract attention. A careful examination of the 
premises disclosed in the floor of one end of the cabin 
a trapdoor. Under this was a large circular hole about 
twelve feet deep. At the bottom of this was found 
an aperture large enough for a man to crawl through, 
which led to quite an extensive cave reaching back 
several hundred yards from the edge of the cliff. Har- 


228 


HELENA. 


ry Thorne and his companions with lanterns explored 
the interior of the cave and found evidence to show 
that in the past the place had been used by . moon- 
shiners. They understood then why the cabin was 
built there, and why no one now living in the com- 
munity even knew of the existence of the cave. They 
saw that the deep hole would be useful for their pur- 
poses, but as they would have no occasion to use the 
cave, the aperture from the bottom of the well-hole to 
the cave was carefully filled up. One of the Tads who 
was a carpenter fixed in perfect order all the arrange- 
ments of the trapdoor for the purposes designed in the 
initiation work of the mystic band. These were made, 
however, for one special candidate. 

Wednesday evening James St. Clair made excuse to 
his brother that he wished to make a call at Gage’s. 
Harvey had been pleased to note a growing intimacy 
between James and Lizzie Gage, for she was a girl he 
would be proud to accept as a sister; so he had no 
misgivings that James’ mission out that night was 
other than on “love’s errand bent.” On reaching the 
cabin at about eight o’clock, he found Harry Thorne, 
Frank Burton and ten others already there. The only 
other members of the Tads who had knowledge of this 
meeting had gone, as arranged, to meet Josiah Carter 
and conduct him to the rendezvous. Half an hour 
later he and his victim arrived, entering the room 
which had once been used as a kitchen, but which 
had now been adjusted to the uses of an ante-room in 
the initiation work. Soon everything was in readiness. 

In the door opening from the ante-room to the main 


CONFESSION OF CRIME. 


229 


room was a round hole with a slide over it. Josiah 
Carter was instructed by the one acting as Outside 
Guide to give three raps on the door, and when the 
slide was raised to give a certain password. As the 
candidate placed his mouth to the opening and was 
about to utter the password, the Inside Guide squirted 
from a large syringe a great stream of water down the 
throat and over his face. It was an unexpected and 
startling setback, but the guide held Carter firmly by 
the arm, saying: 

“Never mind; that was only a little pleasantry. You 
will soon be through, and then you can enjoy seeing 
others initiated. Let me wipe the water from your 
face.” Taking from his pocket a black silk handker- 
chief, which was filled with lampblack, he wiped face, 
neck and ears. The candidate was not aware that he 
had been transformed into the appearance of a black 
negro. Being now admitted to the inside, he was 
conducted from one post to another, receiving at each 
the most solemn adjurations. So terrible were the 
curses invoked in case of falsehood or treachery that 
Carter was becoming more and more- nervous and 
frightened at each succeeding ceremony. At last he 
was taken to a certain spot, enjoined to kneel and with 
uplifted hand to take the final oath: 

“I adjure you to speak the truth. The most awful 
and fearful consequences will follow a false statement 
in the oath you are now required to take,” and the 
King Tad’s attitude and manner were as threatening 
and solemn as the words he uttered. “Now repeat 
after me:” 


230 


HELENA. 


“I, Josiah Carter, solemnly swear that I will keep 
inviolate all the secrets and mysteries of this order, 
and will with my life defend and protect under any 
and all circumstances every member thereof. And I 
further swear that I have never knowingly accused 
any one unjustly — that I have never sworn falsely 
against any man or tried to fasten guilt and shame 
upon one I knew to be innocent, and if I have now 
spoken untruthfully, I pray, as a just punishment for 
my guilt that my skin may turn black and that I may 
sink into the bowels of the earth. Amen.” 

With a majestic wave of his hand King Tad cried, 
“Hear, O Mighty One, if he has spoken true, let him 
stand forth honored and beloved of all men; but if 
he has lied, let his skin now turn to blackness and the 
earth open to receive his vile body.” 

Suddenly the trapdoor fell and Carter with a wild 
shriek of terror disappeared into the darkness. In- 
stantly, as prearranged, every light in the room was 
extinguished. Care had been taken to fill the bottom 
with soft dirt to prevent serious injury from the fall. 

The Tads silently gathered around the opening, lis- 
tening in utter darkness to the terrified pleadings 
for mercy, as their victim crawled around his narrow 
cell, feeling on every side only the smooth earth walls. 
Like most bad and unprincipled men, he was super- 
stitious and cowardly. His craven spirit gave way 
under the pressure of the silence and darkness. He 
sank upon the ground, whining piteously: “The earth 
has indeed swallowed me up. Oh! why did I make 


CONFESSION OF CRIME. 


231 


such a prayer, when I knew I had sworn falsely! I 
prayed, too, that my skin might turn black. Oh, 
surely, that could not be.” 

A bright light shone on the wall before him, and he 
looked into a mirror that reflected a face as black as 
a full-blooded negro’s. 

“Oh, my God! my God!” he cried, and fell back 
almost in a swoon. When he opened his eyes a mo- 
ment later all was darkness. On one side of the wall 
a large mirror had been imbedded, and opposite it a 
dark lantern, with attachment to the slide reaching 
through the floor above. 

“What shall I do? Is there no mercy, no hope, no 
escape from this horrible fate?” 

Out of the darkness from above, in deep, sepul- 
chral tones, came the answer to his cry: 

“In confession alone is there hope. Recant the lie; 
tell the whole truth. Then, and then only, will the 
earth give thee back, and whiteness return to thy 
flesh.” 

“I will speak the truth — the truth only.” 

“See thou do it. One single falsehood more, and 
thy doom is sealed forever. Answer. Did you under- 
take to fasten guilt and shame upon one you knew to 
be innocent?” 

“Yes; in the case of Harvey St. Clair.” 

“Tell how and why you came to pursue the course 
you did. Omit no fact, screen no one, if you expect 
mercy.” 

“I had not thought of denying my signature to the 
note until it was suggested to me.’^ 


23 ^ 


HELENA. 


whom?’’ 

“Herman Clark.” 

“Go on.” 

“He told me that St. Clair was under a cloud and 
had no money, and that if I denied signing the note 
and charged him with forgery, I should have no diffi- 
culty in securing his conviction. He then showed me 
how to make a different signature on the petitions he 
had at the bank, and which he would arrange to have 
introduced at the trial.” 

“Are there any other crimes you and he have been 
guilty of?” 

“Yes. He has discovered that Katie Gardiner has 
fallen heir to a large fortune, and he has forged her 
name to a power of attorney, giving him full authority 
to act for her. He has thus intercepted all correspond- 
ence and kept her in ignorance of the matter. I have 
certified to the forged papers as a magistrate. I know 
I am confessing a great crime, but you promised mercy 
if I told the whole truth. I will tell everything.” 

The astonishment of the listeners was unbounded. 
Here was a revelation of perfidy not dreamed of. 

“One further question: Will you face Herman 
Clark in our presence and repeat this statement, and 
can you at the same time produce any of the forged 
papers you speak of?” 

“Yes; if you will only take me out of this horrible 
place.” 

At a signal from Thorne, the lamps were relighted 
and a ladder lowered. The miserable wretch trem- 


CONFESSION OF CRIME. 2^3 

blingly climbed to the floor above. A consultation 
was then held, and a course of action determined upon, 
the nature and results of which will be made known 
in the next chapter. 


^34 


HELENA. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

IN THE TOILS. 

Dishonor waits on perfidy. The villain 
Should blush to think a falsehood : 'tis the crime 
Of cowards.” 

— Johnson, 

As Thursday drew towards its close, Harvey St. 
Clair grew more and more nervous and apprehensive 
about his meeting with Katie Gardiner. He longed 
to see her, and yet dreaded the ordeal. Knowing that 
the time named for her marriage with Herman Clark 
was now scarcely three weeks off, he felt that his own 
fate was sealed; that seeing her again could do no 
good — would only add to his already overflowing mis- 
ery. Many times during the day he resolved to send 
a note of regret and immediately start for Vernon, but 
as often changed his mind. Why should he be so 
cowardly? He had never told her of his love, and she 
had proven by her betrothal to Clark that he had no 
place in her affections. He would meet his fate like a 
man, and give no outward manifestations of his life’s 
great disappointment. 

Reasoning thus, he found himself at the proper hour 
at the door of Judge Triston’s home. Katie received 
him so frankly and cordially that he at once felt at 


IN THE TOILS. 


235 


greater ease than he had hoped. All his old friends- 
expressed their delight at seeing him again, and he 
was soon surrounded by a large and gay circle of ad- 
miring friends. His old-time spirit was aroused, and 
to deaden the pain at his heart he exerted himself to 
please and entertain. He was the lion of the evening. 
Herman Clark’s hatred and envy were awakened, but 
he kept a smiling face. As much as possible he hov- 
ered at the side of Katie, or near her, that no one might 
forget his proprietorship. 

During the evening St. Clair accidentally overheard 
a conversation that startled him to the depths of his 
soul. He was seated with his back to a window open- 
ing upon a porch. He recognized the voices of Frank 
Burton and Rose German, who were sitting on the 
verandah, quite near the open window. 

“The wedding has been postponed,” he heard Frank 
say. A buzz of talk in the room prevented St. Clair 
from catching Rose’s reply. 

“It will never take place,” said Frank. “She never 
loved him, and for some time the conviction that she 
was making a fatal mistake has been growing stronger. 
The other day she told him that the day fixed for the 
wedding must be postponed indefinitely.” 

Again Rose’s words failed to reach St. Clair’s ears. 

“In twenty-four hours you will know all. You are 
to play a part in the startling drama of real life, where 
Katie will be rescued from a villain’s machinations, and 
he will be consigned to where he belongs — the State’s 
prison,” Frank moved nearer to his companion, and 


HELENA. 


236 

their further dialogue was in tones too low to reach 
the listener’s ears. 

The feelings of St. Clair may be imagined but not 
described. A wild hope thrilled in his soul. He was- 
not elated at thought of his rival’s downfall or danger, 
but by the hope that Katie had not really loved an- 
other. Just then the one on whom all his thoughts 
were centered came towards him. 

“Mr. St. Clair,” she said, with one of her brightest 
and kindliest smiles, “I have a confession to make to 
you. I have discovered that I once mentally did you 
an injustice, and I cannot become good friends with 
myself until I express my regret for the wrong.” 

“Here, now. Miss Katie,” exclaimed Harry Thome, 
who was standing by. “Such confessions need not be 
made before a houseful of people. Harvey is going to 
stop with me for a day or two, and I will see that you 
are not deprived of an occasion to set yourself right.” 

Thorne interposed thus in order to disappoint and 
chagrin Clark, who, he saw, was eagerly listening to 
hear Katie’s speech to St. Clair. Since the revelations 
of the night before, Thorne could with difficulty toler- 
ate the presence of Clark, but the plan arranged was 
that the latter should not be allowed to have any sus- 
picion that his villainy was known. 

“Very well,” replied Katie, laughingly. “If I can 
have a more favorable opportunity to unload the bur- 
den from my conscience, I can wait.” 

“Now, I have a confession to make that is due to 
this whole company. Attention, everybody!” Mr. 
Thorne spoke in a tone to reach the ears of all, and 


IN THE TOILS. 


237 


as he was a general favorite, everyone instantly be- 
came silent. 

^‘My apology,’’ he continued, '‘is directed specially 
to Mr. Clark. You remember that at the first open 
meeting of the Old Maids’ Club, Miss Gardiner related 
the story of her visit to the fortune-teller, closing by 
reading the words of the seer as they had been written 
on the back of a card by Mr. Clark at the time they 
were uttered. On turning the card, she was surprised 
to see the name of Harvey St. Clair instead of Herman 
S. Clark. Many of you supposed that Clark had had 
in his pocket one of St. Clair’s cards and had used it 
instead of one of his own without knowing he had done 
so. I will now explain the whole matter. A few 
days before that meeting, while sitting at this table, I 
observed the visiting cards of both the gentlemen. 
They were of the same size. On Mr. Clark’s card 
were written the words of the fortune-teller. St. 
Clair’s card was blank. I was greatly amused to 
note that the description, as to height, beard, complex- 
ion, color of eyes and hair, could apply to either one, 
and that the initials were in one sense the same. It 
occurred to me that I might perpetrate a joke at Miss 
Katie’s expense, not thinking, at the time, that any- 
one else would ever discover it. I copied on St. Clair’s 
card words written on Clark’s, put the latter in my 
pocket, and left the former in its place. Now I have 
both here,” holding them above his head, one in each 
hand. “On one is the name of Harvey St. Clair, on 
the other Herman S. Clark, and on the reverse side of 
each are the same words. Mr. Clark wrote the words 


238 


HELENA. 


on his card, I wrote those on St. Clair’s; both of us 
heard the fortune-teller utter them. The question is 
still open, Which one was meant by the oracle? To 
settle the momentous question, I propose that the 
cards be put into a hat. Miss Katie be blindfolded and 
required to draw one of them out.” 

“Hear! hear!” cried everybody. “That’s the very 
thing.” 

“Here’s my hat,” exclaimed Frank Burton, and 
snatching the cards from Thorne’s hands, he placed 
them in it. 

Rose German stepped up to Katie and tied a hand- 
kerchief over her eyes before she had time to say a 
word. 

“Draw! draw! It is all in fun!” were the exclama- 
tions on all sides, drowning her effort to demur to 
the proceedings. 

Her hand trembled as it came in contact with the 
hat held out to her. She lifted the first card her 
fingers touched. Eagerly it was grasped by Thorne. 
He read aloud the name on it, “Harvey St. Clair.” 
Taking out the one remaining in the hat, he turned to 
Clark and with a profound bow, said: “Here is your 
card, Mr. Clark.” Thorne wheeled away as he spoke, 
and was across the room before Clark could recover 
sufficiently from his amazement at the action to utter 
a word. “Oh, how he hates me,” said Thorne to him- 
self. “He knows I hate him, too; but he don’t know 
I now have him in my power. I can hardly keep my 
hands from the scoundrel’s throat; but it is his last 


IN THE TOILS. 239 

day to pass as a gentleman. To-morrow his doom 
overtakes him.” 

Katie, on removing the handkerchief from her eyes, 
broke into a laugh, exclaiming, “What nonsense!” and 
immediately gave her attention to the now departing 
guests. Mr. Clark placed the card, which had been 
thrust into his hand, on the centre-table. He was 
very far from feeling that he had experienced a tri- 
umphant or even a happy evening. True, Katie had 
treated him cordially, and had conversed with him 
more than with any one else. She had not broken off 
the engagement; but a few days before had frankly 
told him that the day set for the wedding must be de- 
ferred; that, while she cherished a high regard for him, 
she was not satisfied with the state of her own heart, 
and must be allowed time to fully understand herself. 
He pleaded earnestly against postponement, but 
gained only the concession that, at the end of ten days, 
she would give her final decision as to the question 
of postponement. (That time would expire on the 
coming Sunday.) As a result of this conversation, he 
had visited Josiah Carter, and together they had pre- 
pared forged papers, proving identity and all that 
was necessary to enable him, just as soon as the death 
of Katie’s uncle occurred (of which he expected daily 
to be advised), to get into his own possession the large 
personal estate bequeathed to her. If the marriage 
was to be put off, he would not longer delay action in 
securing the fortune. These forged papers, with the 
dates left blank, were yet in the hands of Carter; con- 


240 


HELENA. 


sequently he could (as he did) positively promise the 
Tads to produce the evidence of Clark’s guilt. 

The consultation of the Tads after the confession 
made by Josiah Carter resulted in the following plan 
of action: Carter was to be held a prisoner in the 
cabin until Friday. He was required to write a note 
to his family, saying that business had called him to 
another part of the county, and that he would not be 
home until Friday evening; also a note to Clark 
(which was to be left at the bank in Memphis), re- 
questing a conference with him at the cabin on the 
cliff at three o’clock Friday afternoon. These letters 
v/ere written by Carter, and given to one of the so- 
ciety to deliver. 

Several of the members volunteered to take turns 
in guarding Carter, who expressed a readiness to com- 
ply with whatever was desired. Plenty of provisions 
were brought out early Thursday morning by mem- 
bers who were not on guard duty, and all regarded 
the new experience into which they had fallen as a 
jolly frolic. The prospect of entrapping Clark and 
showing up his villainy in a way to humiliate him 
most gave zest to their work, and caused them to 
make light of the danger they were incurring by their 
unlawful procedure. 

Long before three o’clock on the eventful Friday, 
Thorne, Burton and all the members who had taken 
part on Wednesday were at the cabin. Within a few 
minutes of the time appointed Clark was seen coming. 
Without knocking he opened the door and stepped 
inside. Josiah Carter was alone in the room. Harry 


IN THE TOILS. 


241 


Thorne and James St. Clair had been secreted outside, 
and immediately followed Clark, entering almost on 
his heels. They closed and locked the door. At the 
same moment the opposite door from the ante-room 
opened, and Frank Burton, with more than half a dozen 
others, advanced into the room. Clark, who had not 
had time to speak to Carter, gave a quick glance at 
those behind and before him, and at once realized 
that for some purpose or other he had been entrapped. 

‘‘What does this mean?” he demanded, darting a 
look of towering wrath at Carter. 

“Never mind, Mr. Carter,” said Thorne, who had 
been selected as spokesman. “He has been forced to 
what he has done in this matter. I have a few ques- 
tions to ask you.” 

“You have no right to ask me any questions. I de- 
mand that you open that door. By what authority do 
you restrain my liberty or question me under duress?” 

“I know what I am doing,” coolly replied Mr. 
Thorne, “and you will find that bluff will avail you 
nothing. If you do not wish to speak, very well. I 
will direct my questions to Mr. Carter. He will an- 
swer in your presence. Did this man, Herman Clark, 
counsel and advise you to charge forgery against 
Harvey St. Clair, and, after his arrest, get you to sign 
certain petitions he had in the bank in a different 
character of signature from that you had used on the 
note?” 

“He did.^ 

“You lie!” exclaimed Clark, in a towering rage. 
Then, turning to Thorne: “You have terrorized this 


242 


HELENA. 


man, so that he has framed a pack of lies on me, in 
hopes of securing greater leniency for himself.^’ 

“Mr. Carter,” said Thorne, without paying any at- 
tention to the looks or words of Clark, “do you know 
that this man by some means learned that the uncle 
of Katie Gardiner desired reconciliation, and had made 
a will in her favor?” 

“He told me so.” 

The defiant look on Clark’s face changed; a wave 
of fear and despair turned it to an ashen hue. He 
realized that his bold game was lost. 

“Has he, in conection with you, prepared forged 
proofs of identity, and powers of attorney, to be used 
after the expected death in securing for himself a 
fortune devised to another?” 

“He has.” 

“Gentlemen, I protest against this outrage. Mr. 
Carter is answering under duress. His statements are 
all false, and he will deny every word when he is not 
in jeopardy of his life.” 

“Mr, Carter,” continued Thorne, ignoring Clark 
entirely, “can you produce any of the forged papers 
m the handwriting of Herman Clark?” 

“I have them at my home.” 

Clark had been moving restlessly to and fro, unable 
in his great agitation to keep still. Thorne was watch- 
ing him closely, and just as he reached a certain spot,, 
signal was given and the spring was pressed. The 
floor parted, and Clark shot down like an arrow into 
the darkness, The heavy doors closed again, and 


IN THE TOILS. 


243 


only the faint sound of bitter ravings and cursings 
could be heard. 

‘'Now, Janies St. Clair, get your buggy from its 
hiding place and take Mr. Carter to his home, and 
bring him and the forged papers back with you,” said 
Thorne. 

“I’ll bring him back, dead or alive, within an hour.” 

“Burton, go on your mission and be here by the time 
St. Clair returns. One more scene of terrible humilia- 
tion and shame for the scoundrel who so ruthlessly 
trampled on the rights of others, and I am done — my 
reign as King of Tads will to-day cease forever. I have 
not approved our methods, but for once I have joined 
with you in an effort to accomplish good through evil 
processes. Our success does not justify the means. 
In the end, if our organization were continued, the 
self-seeking and the promoters of unworthy motives 
would gain the ascendency, and the final results would 
accomplish far more evil than good. Our course can- 
not be justified or defended on the principles of law 
and order; yet we have accomplished what the slow 
processes of law might never have reached. Still, it 
was wrong, and perfect civilization is retarded rather 
than advanced by the methods we have pursued. To- 
day this society must disband, or I shall be found as 
conspicuous in antagonizing its aims as I have lately 
been in leading its forces.” 


244 


HELENA. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

UNMASKED. 

** O ! how glorious ’t is 

To right the oppress’d and bring the felon vile 
To just disgrace !” 

— Somerville, 

Tn less than an hour James St. Clair returned with 
Carter and the papers. 

A few minutes later Burton returned, but not alone. 
Those accompanying him entered and remained in the 
ante-room. 

'‘Open the trap and let down the ladder,’’ said 
Thorne, and his order was promptly executed. 

Herman Clark was not loath to avail himself of the 
opportunity to escape from the darkness and silence. 
During the hour of his dungeon experience he had 
realized fully the awful humiliation and dreadful con- 
sequences that would necessarily follow the exposure 
that had been brought about. 

Nearly every one present during the revelation had 
been for a long time his familiar acquaintances. He 
had posed among them as a young man of high moral 
tendencies, and he knew that now the mask had been 
completely torn off. He felt keenly the loathing ex- 
hibited in every countenance at the statements of 


UNMASKED. 


245 


Carter. He had fondly counted on a few more days 
of time in which to accomplish his evil designs. On 
the following Monday he was to have arranged a 
financial settlement with Carter for his part in the 
crime, and then depart never to return, unless it should 
be to claim Katie as a bride, by which means he felt 
exposure would be avoided. Now all was lost, and 
dire punishment must follow, unless some means of 
escape arose. This was one thought that racked his 
brain. “Escape! escape! and fly to the uttermost parts 
of the earth,’^ was the one cry ringing through his 
tortured mind. 

Tremblingly and with downcast look he reached the 
floor. The trap was closed, and he was directed to a 
seat which faced the ante-room door and only a few 
feet from it. He knew that an attempt to escape now 
was useless, and that bluff and defiance would be of 
no avail to him, while surrounded by a dozen men who, 
right or wrong, were determined to hold him. He 
observed that the door to the adjoining room was 
partly open, but no one was visible except those in the 
main room. 

“I am told by Mr. Carter,” began Thorne in de- 
liberate tones, “that you employed a lawyer in Cin- 
cinnati to draft proper legal documents by which a 
supposed inheritance could be established, and that 
you copied those forms, making such changes in 
names, dates, etc., as would cover the bequests of Jared 
Gardiner. These papers which I now hold in my 
hands are in due form of law if the signatures and 
official attestations are genuine. One of these docu- 


246 


HELENA* 


ments purports to bear the duly attested signature of 
Katie Gardiner. Now, Mr. Clark,” and Thorne ad- 
vanced with the paper and pointed to the place, “is 
this name signed by her own hand?” 

“Yes,” replied Clark, with an effort to speak confi- 
dently. The uppermost desire of his heart now was to 
get away from the large number restraining him. If 
he could only so arrange as to have but a single guard, 
he would readily risk his life in a fight for escape. 
“If you will now go with me to the home of Miss 
Gardiner, she will verify it.” 

“That is unnecessary,” coolly replied Thorne, as he 
stamped his heel loudly on the floor. Immediately the 
door Clark was facing' swung wide, open, and Katie Gar- 
diner, Rose German, Lizzie Gage, accompanied by 
Harvey St. Clair, walked in and stood before him. No 
words can describe the look of misery, shame and de- 
feat that overspread his countenance. It was not the 
sense of his crimes that overwhelmed him, but the 
awful ignominy of his situation. For these four, of all 
others in the world, to face him in his hour of fearful 
disgrace, was the very acme of mental despair and 
torture. 

Like Cain of old, he cried out, “My punishment is 
greater than I can bear. I surrender; take me to 
prison at once — anything, anywhere is better than 
this.” 

Harry Thorne, who, from the first, was prepared 
with legal warrants for arrest, called for the sheriff, 
who had all the time been in waiting. As that official 


UNMASKED. 247 

Stepped forward, Thorne said: ‘‘Take your prisoner, 
and please remove him at once from our presence/’ 

When the news of the arrest reached the bank at 
Memphis, the officials made an investigation and 
found that Clark had been systematically robbing the 
bank. These charges were added against him. In 
due course of legal procedure trial was had, convic- 
tion secured and the doors of the State’s prison closed 
on the miserable wretch who had so ruthlessly 
trampled on the honor and rights of those he pre- 
tended to befriend, respect and love. 

On the same day this startling denouement occurred 
at the log cabin, Judge Triston, who was attending 
circuit court in the adjoining county, met Dr. Horn, 
with whom he had long been well acquainted. 

“I have something I wish you to read,” said the 
doctor, and he handed Judge Triston the letter which 
the reader will remember was written by Dr. Gibson 
the night after his trial. 

The Judge carefully read the letter and was 
astounded to learn from its contents that the long-lost 
Captain Brannan was alive and located under an 
assumed name at Vernon in adjoining State. As he 
felt there might be some mistake, he resolved to wait 
further developments before mentioning the matter to 
Mrs. Brannan. His knowledge of Dr. Horn’s charac- 
ter assured him that there would be no rest until the 
truth of his correspondent’s assertion was fully investi- 
gated. 

“Which way are you going?” asked the Judge, ob- 
serving a grip in the doctor’s hands. 


HELENA. 


24^ 

‘‘I just got word that a sister I have in Ohio is very 
ill, and I am going to see her.” 

They parted, and soon afterwards Judge Triston 
saw the doctor board the up packet to Louisville. We 
will follow him on his visit to his sick sister. Landing 
at Louisville, he took the first train to Indianapolis. 
On arrival, he proceeded to the office of the secretary 
of the Masonic Aid Society, and finding the secretary, 
Mr. Martin, in, he inquired: 

'‘Have you paid the Brannan insurance yet?” 

“No; the time is not quite out.” 

“I thought about making a little western trip,” said 
Dr. Horn. “I don't believe Brannan is dead, and I 
thought if you would make it interesting I might scare 
him up. If I can get enough to pay my expenses, 
which will not exceed $500, I will make an effort to 
locate him.” 

“What's done will have to be done speedily, for only 
about four or five weeks remain until time is up, when 
I have agreed to pay the policy,” answered Secretary 
Martin. 

“Well, what do you say to my proposition? Will 
you pay my expenses?” 

“No, I can't agree to do that; but I will say that if in 
your travels you find Brannan and furnish evidence 
that he is alive, I will give you $500 in cash.” 

“Will you give me a writing to that effect?” 

“Yes,” said the secretary, “I will reduce the agree- 
ment to writing.” 

In a few minutes the paper was drawn and signed 
by Secretary Martin, for the Masonic Aid Society, 


UNMASKED. 


249 


On receiving the document, Dr. Horn left the office, 
and, going to the depot of the Indianapolis and Vin- 
cennes Railroad, purchased a ticket to Vernon, where 
he arrived about six o'clock that evening. After sup- 
per at the hotel, he went to the County Clerk’s office, 
where he fortunately found that officer at work. He 
introduced himself, and explained his business by 
showing Dr. Gibson’s letter. 

The clerk was thunderstruck at the revelation. His 
respect and high regard for Judge Brown was such 
that he actually shed tears at the possibility of Gibson’s 
statements being true. He had heard of some such 
charge having been made on the day of Gibson’s trial, 
but he, like everyone else at Vernon, had dismissed 
the matter as unworthy of credence, attributing it to 
the ravings of an angry man over some fancied re- 
semblance. Now the letter he read was so explicit in 
detail and emphatic in its declarations that the clerk 
was amazed and deeply moved. 

“All doubts can be solved in a few moments, if I can 
have an interview with your Judge Brown,” said Dr. 
Horn. “I served with Brannan in the army, and could 
not be deceived as to his identity. I should like in 
some way to get to see him without his knowing it.” 

“I can manage that. I have just prepared an order 
in a case and have to submit it to Judge Brown before 
entering it in the order book. I will take a lantern 
and go down to his office, which is in his residence, 
only a short distance from here. You can go along and 
station yourself on the verandah. I will knock at his 
office door, and when he opens it I will throw the light 


HELENA. 


250 

of the lantern on his face, so that you can have a good 
look at him.” 

With this understanding, the clerk and Dr. Horn 
proceeded to the residence and office of Judge Brown. 
On reaching the porch they saw, through the office 
window, the Judge, comfortably seated before a blaz- 
ing fire, listening to a recitation of a young law stu- 
dent who was taking lessons from the Judge. Dr. 
Horn stationed himself about ten feet in rear of the 
door. The clerk rapped, and Judge Brown imme- 
diately arose and opened the door. 

“Come in,” said the Judge, recognizing the visitor, 

“No,” replied the clerk, “I called to submit the or- 
der in C. vs. B., and I wish to make an inquiry about 
this.” Here he raised the paper and lantern on a 
level with the Judge’s face. Just then Dr. Horn, who 
was a very large man, weighing 350 pounds, and whom 
no one, having once seen him, could fail to recognize, 
stepped forward and held out his hand, saying: 

“Pres., how are you?” 

The recognition was instantaneous. 

“Doc., come in,” and to the clerk, “I will see you 
in the morning.” 

The law student was unceremoniously dismissed, 
and the Judge turned the bolt of the office door. For 
some time the two men remained silent. Brannan, 
alias Judge Brown, spoke first: 

“Doc., what has become of Helena?” 

“She is at Judge Triston’s, in Corinth.” 

“My God! I supposed she was dead,” and he bowed 


UNMASKED. 


251 


his head and covered his face with his hands, re- 
maining motionless and silent for a long time. 

“My old comrade,” at length spoke Dr. Horn, as he 
placed his hand on the Judge’s shoulder, “do not give 
way to despair. I, as your old intimate associate, 
know you, of course, but I can easily convince Gib- 
son that he is mistaken, and everyone else who heard 
his words will agree with you in saying he was drunk 
or insane. If I tell Gibson he is mistaken he will 
apologize, and if you let him off light he will never 
trouble you any more.” 

“Oh, doctor, will you do this for me? I plead for 
your mercy. I have a good name here. To ruin me 
would do you no good. Oh! I beseech you to keep 
the knowledge you have a secret so long as I live.” 

“I pledge you my word of honor that I will never be- 
tray you.” 

Dr. Horn was in some respects the “prince of 
good fellows,” would divide his last dollar with not 
only a friend, but a stranger as well, yet he had the 
fault of telling all he knew, and sometimes “a little 
the rise.” He did not possess the faculty of keeping 
a secret — no matter how important it might be to 
himself or others. He had already made confidants of 
three or four men at the hotel during his supper hour, 
fully divulging to them, as he had to the clerk of the 
court, his mission to their town. Each one was en- 
joined to keep the matter a secret. He promised them 
that when he had ascertained whether Judge Brown 
was Brannan he would report in the morning. 

The interview between Dr. Horn and Brannan 


252 


HELENA. 


lasted for several hours, during which the former gave 
a full history of everything which had taken place at 
the old home of the latter in connection with his disap- 
pearance; and in return Brannan told the story of his 
wanderings and experiences from the hour of his de- 
parture to the present time. About three o’clock in 
the morning they separated, and, as arranged between 
them. Dr. Horn went to the hotel for his grip and 
Brannan went to a livery-stable for a carriage and 
driver. In this conveyance the doctor was soon 
seated and rapidly taken in a northern direction to a 
point forty miles distant, on another line of railroad, by 
which he could be conveyed back to his home. When 
daylight came the big doctor was many miles out of 
town, consequently could not be seen by those to 
whom he had promised to report. 

Judge Brown convened his court at the usual hour 
on that morning; but the clerk observed that he was 
extremely nervous and restless. About ten o’clock 
some of the gentlemen to whom Dr. Horn had talked 
at the hotel walked into the courthouse, and, noting 
the haggard looks and agitated condition of the Judge, 
they retired to the courthouse yard and began to talk 
to the groups of men standing around about the big 
doctor and his startling story. It was soon very gen- 
erally known that there was something wrong about 
Judge Brown. 

At noon the court was adjourned until the follow- 
ing morning. ^The Judge called the clerk aside and 
asked him if he had had any conversation with the 
doctor the night previous. 


UNMASKED. 


253 


‘‘Yes,” replied the clerk, deeply pained, but feeling 
he should speak frankly; “Dr. Horn not only told 
me all, but I find that he revealed the whole object 
of his mission here to several persons at the hotel be- 
fore seeing me, and that they have given it publicity 
by telling the whole town.” 

The Judge turned dejectedly away, directing his 
steps to his residence. He was seen no more until 
six o’clock in the evening, train-time on the Vincennes 
& Cairo Railroad, when he boarded the train. That 
night at Cairo he wrote a letter to the clerk of his 
Court, enclosing his written resignation as Judge, with 
the request that it be promptly forwarded to the Gov- 
ernor of the State. 

Here we leave Presley Brannan, alias Judge Brown. 
We shall hear of him once more. In the meantime, 
we will visit our friends at Corinth. 


254 


HELENA. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

TRUE AND YET UNTRUE. 

A ruddy drop of manly blood 
The surging sea outweighs ; 

The world uncertain comes and goes, 

The lover rooted stays.” 

— Emerson, 

It was through the arrangements made by Harry 
Thorne and Frank Burton that Harvey St. Clair was 
present at the log cabin denouement. He was in the 
dark as to what was to happen. The invitation to ac- 
company the three young ladies with Frank Burton 
was readily accepted without question. The company 
was specially agreeable to him, and the object was 
merely a pleasure trip. So he regarded it when asked 
to be one of a party for an afternoon drive to the coun- 
try. On being ushered into the ante-room of the cabin 
he first realized that he was being led into some affair 
of unusual nature. A few words from Burton ex- 
plained the situation, and he was ready (in full sym- 
pathy with his companions) to await developments. 
It was different with Katie Gardiner. She knew the 
object of the meeting here, as did Rose German and 
Lizzie Gage. At an early hour in the forenoon Thorne 
and Burton had held a long conference with Katie. 
All the revelations of Josiah Carter as to the part 


TRUE AND YET UNTRUE. 


255 


Herman Clark had taken in the proceedings against 
the good name and liberty of Harvey St. Clair were 
toM her in minutest detail; and then his actions and 
motives concerning her uncle’s will were revealed. 
Knowing her relations towards Clark, the story was 
told delicately, just as brothers would inform and ad- 
vise a sister under such circumstances. They knew 
that if she really loved Clark, she would refuse to be- 
lieve the statements made, and would resent them. 
Their observations, however, of late had led them to 
the conclusion that no real love for him existed, and 
that their message, while astounding and painful, 
would not prove heartrending. 

This conjecture they soon found to be correct. She 
was at first stupefied and amazed. Soon indignation 
manifested itself. After a moment of silence and 
thought, she said : 

^T am prepared to accept as truth what you have 
told me. Many little things of late have raised doubts 
in my mind as to the nobleness and sincerity of Mr. 
Clark’s nature. While I could never have imagined 
such meanness and perfidy as you have revealed, I 
had recently instinctively been growing distrustful 
of him, and had determined at our next meeting to 
dismiss him from my company and my thoughts for- 
ever. Though deeply pained and grieved, I am not 
heartbroken. I might have forgiven him for trying 
to steal my fortune, but could never forgive his keep^ 
ing from me, even for an hour, the knowledge of my 
uncle’s illness and desire to see me; nor could I for- 
give his effort to put undeseryed disgrace upon on^ 


256 


HELENA. 


for whom he professed love and friendship. I am per- 
fectly willing, if you think best, and desire it, to face 
Mr. Clark at any time or in any manner you choose 
to arrange.” 

It was then suggested that Rose German and Lizzie 
Gage be sent for, that she might have the company of 
ladies, in case she should be called for. 

It was in this manner that the presence at the cabin 
of the four who added so much to the bitterness of 
Clark’s cup of woe was provided for. 

One evening shortly afterward Harvey St. Clair 
called at the residence of Judge Triston. During the 
exciting scenes of their last meeting St. Clair and 
Katie had had no opportunity for conversation, ex- 
cept such as related to the startling events. Harry 
Thorne, through the use of the telegraph, had re- 
ceived full information from Philadelphia concerning 
Jared Gardiner’s condition and his desire to see his 
niece, and had imparted the same to her. When 
St. Clair called he found her in the midst of prepara- 
tions for a journey to Philadelphia. The date ar- 
ranged for her departure was such, however, as to give 
am.ple time for a lengthy interview with her visitor. 

“I wish to speak very frankly,” said Katie when, 
after a pleasant greeting, they were seated in the 
drawing-room. ‘‘To me, it is a false sense of pro- 
priety not to acknowledge a mental as well as a 
spoken injustice. I find I did you a wrong in my 
mind, although I did not by word or act of any kind 
convey it to any one. I believed you guilty of a very 
unworthy action, and learned pnly recently that I was 


TRUE AND YET UNTRUE. 


257 


mistaken. It was greatly against my inclination to 
give credence to what I heard, but it came to me in 
such guise of truthfulness that I could not gainsay it; 
but it pains me now to confess I ever could have be- 
lieved that you came to the entertainment about a 
year ago provided with a bottle of whiskey to solace 
yourself on the return trip.'' 

“Unfortunately you may still believe it, for it is 
true." 

“True!" she exclaimed, with a look of pained sur- 
prised. “Then is it also true that the bottle was the 
cause of the runaway, and the charge of intemperance 
the grounds for your dismissal from the bank?" 

“Yes." 

“Harry Thorne told me he knew positively that you 
had not taken a drink on that day or night." 

“He told you correctly." 

“I understood you just now to admit that whiskey 
was the cause of the accident. I am mystified. I do 
not see any occasion now for apology," she said in a 
cold and constrained manner. 

“There is none. I am the supplicant for pardon, not 
you. The bottle, not its contents, caused the accident. 
My answers to your questions are literally true, though 
seemingly at variance. Now that you have broached 
this subject, I will tell you the whole story. Painful as 
some of it is to me, I will deceive you in no point. 
Much as I prize your good opinion, I would not seek 
it at the expense of truth." 

Beginning with Harry Thorne's letter invitinghim to 
the entertainment, wh^re he first saw her, he recounted 


258 


HELENA. 


in detail the incidents, impressions and emotions ex- 
perienced up to the moment when he was hurled in- 
sensible to the ground. In describing his emotions 
and the resolution reached he represented them as 
attributable to the recitations and not to the love 
which at first sight had taken possession of his heart. 
It was of that love, now the consuming passion of his 
soul, that he longed most to speak, but feared the 
revelation would touch no responsive chord in her 
heart. 

She, however, was not deceived. The love-light in 
his eyes and the tender tones of his voice told more 
than his words. As she listened, a wild joy bounded 
in her heart. Once she had said, “The idol is broken, 
the dream must fade away, and I must banish even the 
memory of it from my thoughts.” Now she knew he 
was worthy, and the love she had so long sought to 
stifle burst into full power and dominion over her soul. 
She uttered no word, but as he finished speaking and 
looked into her eyes he knew better than words could 
tell him that the revelation he longed to make need not 
be delayed. W ords may deceive or mislead, but in the 
eyes of a woman who loves there is a look that never 
lies. He took her hand in his and gently caressed it. 

“Katie,” he said, “what I told you was all true, but 
it was not all of the truth. On that moonlight ride the 
intoxication of love thrilled through my being. I had 
no thought but of your sweet face. I heard only the 
matchless tones of your voice, and from that hour my 
love has grown in intensity. I feel now that my love 
is not in vain. Your unresisting hand and the tender 


TRUE AND YET UNTRUE. 


259 


light in your eyes tell me I have gained what is more 
to me than all the world besides. Oh! my darling, is 
it not so?” 

“Yes, you have all my love. You have had it a long 
time, but when I was deceived about you, I tried to 
crush it out. Now, with implicit confidence and un- 
clouded faith in you, my love is all there is of me and 
you have it all,” she said, as she lovingly and trust- 
ingly looked into the depths of his blue eyes. Their 
lips met in that first long, passionate kiss of true 
affinity in which the breath of two souls are mingled 
into one and ever so remain. 

Some one has said (and it cannot be denied) that 
the “prettiest thing in the world is the pink of a baby's 
heel;” but the sweetest thing in the world is the first 
kiss of a mutually pure and unsullied love. But it 
cannot last forever; there, must be intervals. After- 
while — how long cannot be accurately stated — St. 
Clair and Katie came back to earth. What appears to 
new lovers the bitterest thing in the world is separa- 
tion. In a few hours Katie must be en route to Phila- 
delphia and St. Clair on his way to Vernon. We leave 
them now that they may say their good-byes alone. 


260 


HELENA. 


CHAPTER XXX. 

NONE SO FAIR AS SHE. 

‘‘To see her is to love her, 

And love but her forever ; 

For nature made her what she is, 

And never made anither.” 

— Burns. 

Two days after the departure of Katie Gardiner for 
the East, word came to Judge Triston from Dr Horn 
that the long-lost Captain Brannan could be found at 
Vernon. 

The Judge at once set out for that city, determined 
to satisfy himself by personal investigation. He found 
that Judge Brown had left on the day following his 
interview with Dr. Horn and had sent back his resig- 
nation as judge. He had also written letters to per- 
sons in Vernon, confessing that the name of Brown 
was an assumed one and that his real name was Pres- 
ley Brannan. Judge Triston visited the woman that 
Brannan had claimed as his wife for the last six years, 
and by whom he had three children. She was living 
in a neat double cottage situated on the public square 
of the town. She permitted the Judge to do all the 
talking, answering fiis questions only in monosylla- 
bles. However, from a prominent attorney of the 
town, Mr. Rydnour, full information was gained con- 


NONE SO FAIR AS SHE. 


261 

cerning Brannan, alias Brown. He showed a letter 
just received, in which Brannan stated that he had 
good reasons for changing his name — namely, that 
he had several years ago got mixed up with a woman 
of bad character who was now being kept by an old 
lawyer at Corinth; that she was a base woman and an 
adventuress, and that he was afraid of her doing him 
violence. Judge Triston was astonished beyond meas- 
ure to find one so base as to traduce a pure and noble 
woman in order to palliate his own vile actions. Mr. 
Rydnour gave this letter to Judge Triston, who has- 
tened home. He found that Brannan had preceded 
him to Corinth and was, through a friend, making 
overtures toward a reconciliation with the lawful wife 
whom he had forsaken for seven years. Mrs. Bran- 
nan was waiting to advise with Judge Triston before 
answering the overtures. When the Judge reached 
home Mrs. Brannan asked him if he thought it was 
right for her to meet Brannan. For answer he 
handed her the letter the lawyer had given him. She 
recognized the handwriting of her husband. While 
reading the letter she fainted. After recovery she 
re-read it and her indignation was deeply aroused. 

‘‘Go tell him I would not look on his vile face. I 
could have forgiven much, but not this. To write what 
he knew to be a vile slander on my good name, at the 
very time he was seeking reconciliation, is proof of 
baseness and depravity so great as to be almost beyond 
belief. There are no words to fitly express my con- 
tempt and scorn for such a scoundrel. *Tell him what 


262 


HELENA. 


I have now said, and then please prepare the papers 
and get a divorce for me.” 

The message was faithfully delivered to Brannan, 
who for a short time remained at Lawrence and Fre- 
mont. The friends of former years shunned him. 
He felt himself an object of contempt, and one day at 
Lawrence boarded a St. Louis packet boat on its 
downward trip. He got off the boat at the little vil- 
lage of Malta, a few miles above Cairo. Here he 
met Mrs. Brown, the woman he had so long lived with 
at Vernon, and together they took passage on a Mis- 
sissippi River steamboat for the great Northwest. 
That was the last ever heard of him. 

Several weeks have passed since the parting of St. 
Clair and Katie. The latter we now find sitting by 
the bedside of her uncle, Jared Gardiner, in his Phila- 
delphia home. For months the invalid had been very 
low, sometimes in great pain and suffering, and at 
others in semi-unconsciousness. He had been too 
feeble to give much thought to the long delay in hear- 
ing directly from his niece, after the message he had 
sent by Herman Clark. Had he not been so extremely 
ill, the letters of Clark would not have satisfied him. 
He could not have waited so patiently for response to 
his urgent invitation. Her coming at last was the one 
thing, more than all medicine, that he needed. At 
first he scarcely understood who it was that so gently 
ministered to his every want. But as days passed, the 
thoughtful care and loving ministry of heart and hands 
wrought happy results. The invalid slowly but stead- 
ily improved. 


NONE SO FAIR AS SHE. 263 

Now, at the end of six weeks, the sick man, though 
still confined to his couch, was able to spend hours 
each day in converse with Katie, or in hearing her 
read the current news and the books he loved best. 
She had long since learned of the sad experience 
through which her mother had passed, and had writ- 
ten lovingly and hopefully to cheer and comfort the 
saddened life. Her own great joy and solace had been 
in the almost daily letters from St. Clair. She had 
told her uncle of her lover, and he, happy in the 
brightness she had brought to him, rejoiced in all the 
happiness that opened to her. 

As she sat by his couch to-day her face shone with 
unwonted pleasure. A sweet, glad song was in her 
heart, and the face reflected the joy within. 

^‘What makes you look so happy, my child?” asked 
her uncle, with kindly look into her lovely face. 

“Only a letter, dear uncle. I have read you some 
of Harvey’s love letters, but the one to-day is so dif- 
ferent. It somehow opens the deepest chambers of 
my heart. It exhilarates like old wine.” 

“You will not deny me the pleasure of hearing it 
read?” 

“Oh, I have no objections to reading it to you. But 
you will see nothing in it. It is a treasure to me, but I 
do not expect others to appreciate it as I do.” 

“Let me judge for myself.” 

Taking the letter from her bosom, she unfolded and 
read as follows: 


264 


HELENA. 


“Vernon, June 7. 

“My Darling Katie, — ^The other evening I sat in a 
concert hall and heard Rose German, who is here now, 
sing a song in which the words, ‘dreaming, dreaming, 
dreaming/ were repeated over and over. As the words 
came soft and sweet to my ears, my spirit seemed 
wafted far away, and strange fancies filled my soul. It 
appeared as though I came suddenly into a vast realm 
of life and activity. From whence I came I knew not. 
I started forth, whither I could not tell. I passed 
through many worlds — bright and beautiful they were 
— full of untold wonders to attract and please the 
fancy. But they satisfied me not, and I passed them 
by. At length I came to earth and traversed all its 
broad domain — ^journeying through picturesque val- 
leys, over grand and inspiring mountains, and along 
the banks of beautiful streams — through all the sunny 
Southland, where flowers bloomed in unequaled 
splendor and where birds of rarest plumage sang the 
sweetest of songs. I mingled with many people of 
every name and race and tongue. Among them were 
great men and noble women. They were gentle and 
good and kind to me, and I wondered why I was not 
satisfied ; but there was ever present with me a longing 
desire for something I did not have. 

“After I had traversed every land and viewed all the 
wondrous things of earth, mingled with the noblest 
of her men and talked with the fairest of her women, 
I came at last to a spot called Beulahland. In the 
center of this fair realm I entered a grand and impos- 
ing grove. The trees were tall and stately ; their high 


NONE SO EaIR as she. 


265 


branches, interlacing, cast over the sweet green earth 
a grateful shade. A bright stream of cool, refreshing 
water burst forth from a shady nook beside a great 
rock, over which had grown a moss, rich and delicate 
as velvet. It was a serene, quiet spot — a fit trysting- 
place for the gods. I quenched my thirst from the 
sparkling stream and then lay down upon the in- 
viting grass to rest and think over all I had seen and 
all I had hoped for. Long I mused over the countries 
through which I had passed — of the splendid cities 
whose grand architecture and bright domes were pic- 
tured in the chambers of my memory; of the eminent 
men and imperial women I had known. I recalled the 
praises of good men and the flattering words of fair 
women for achievements I had made. I could hear 
the alluring voices of maidens of rare beauty and volup- 
tuous form, who had sung love songs in my ears, and I 
could again feel the gentle pressure of their warm lips 
and their soft white hands placed in loving caress upon 
my brow. As I thought of all these things, I asked the 
question, Why am I not satisfied? 

“I turned my weary head to the flowers that grew by 
the limpid stream and said, ‘Tell me, oh, sweet and 
fragrant blossom, what it is that will satisfy my in- 
ward yearning.’ The fair flower bowed its head and 
seemed to answer, but I could not understand its lan- 
guage. Then I inquired of the sparkling water as it 
ran by my feet. It gurgled a name, I thought, but I 
could not tell what it was. I looked up to the waving 
branches and asked the same question of the leaves. 
They rustled and whispered low and sweet, but the 


266 


HELENA. 


words they said I could not comprehend. With a 
deep and weary sigh, I closed my eyes and cried from 
my innermost soul a fervent prayer: ‘If there is in all 
this vast world that which will satisfy my unappeasable 
longing, let it come to me now.’ And lo! there came 
a breath upon my face more fragrant than the scent 
of the violet, and I felt upon my lips a kiss so sweet, 
pure and holy that I could scarce endure the exquisite 
joy that thrilled through every fibre of my being. I 
stretched out my arms and clasped in warm embrace 
the glorious presence, and it resisted not (as I had 
feared it would), but nestled closer and closer to my 
panting heart. I opened my eyes and looked into the 
brightest brown eyes I had ever seen. My hands 
moved caressingly over form of matchless shape. With 
exquisite joy, I cried, ‘Stay, leave me not — this is all 
I want; I am satisfied now.’ 

“As I pressed the sweetest lips man ever kissed, I 
whispered, ‘Tell me your name and who you are?’ and 
a voice, sweeter to me than all the sounds I had ever 
heard, answered, ‘I am Katie, your own perfect mate.’ 

“I lay still a moment and heard the fragrant flower, 
the gurgling brook and the murmuring leaves chat- 
ting gayly. I could understand them now. They 
were saying, ‘We told you Katie, Katie, Katie all the 
time; your own perfect, eternal mate. She alone of 
all the world could satisfy you.’ 

“Far up on the highest branches I heard the ‘caw, 
caw, caw’ of the black-winged crow, and it seemed 
to .say, ‘He has seen many as fair as she.’ Then I 
heard the bright young blossom, the babbling brook 


NONE SO FAIR AS SHE. 26/ 

and the murmuring leaves answer back: There is 
none so fair to him — none so fair to him.’ 

“For a few brief hours I knew no want or longing, 
and then I found my mate was not with me. I listened 
to hear the sound of her returning steps, and I heard, 
instead, the voices of the flowers, the water and the 
leaves saying, ‘She will come to you again, with a love 
as true, pure and holy as when she left you;’ and I 
was satisfied. Ever yours only, 

“H. St. C.” 

“You call that a love letter, Katie?” asked the uncle 
with a pleasant smile. 

“It is something that says I am more to him than 
all the world besides. Oh, uncle, is not love a big 
thing? The whole universe does not amount to much 
if put in the balance against the heart’s true love! 
Should I not be happy to know that the priceless 
treasure of all the devotion and tender yearning of a 
good man’s life is mine?” 

“I suppose so; but I have never had such love ex- 
perience as you speak of. The radiance on your face, 
the delight in your eyes, tells me of an inward joy that 
I trust will illumine your whole life, as it does now 
your countenance. Have you fixed the wedding- 
day?” 

“We have discussed it in our recent* letters and 
agreed to an early day in September, if you are then 
able to accompany me home. The doctor says that in 
two months you will be fully restored to health. You 
might have been well long ago, he says, if yop had 


268 


HELENA. 


not given up to die, under the impression that you 
had nothing to live for. When I came you realized 
that there is one, at least, for you to love and cherish; 
then the tide changed. The desire for life arose, and 
with it a will power of resistance against bodily in- 
firmity. Now (the doctor being judge), you owe your 
life to me, and you must do everything as I wish it.” 
She smiled sweetly into his face, and tenderly caressed 
his hand lying upon the coverlet. The pressure of 
his hand and gentle look of his eyes told how willing 
he was to do anything she wished. 

What wonders are wrought by a touch of sympathy 
and love! This man, once so stern and unyielding, 
was now perfectly submissive. He had come so near 
to the other world that the littleness of his old-time 
stubbornness was clearly seen. In the full restoration 
of health, the old strong-willed nature would still exist, 
but he would never again be dominated by an un- 
reasoning spirit. 

^^My dear niece, any reward you may claim shall be 
yours, so far as in me lies the power to grant it. In 
both mind and body I discover signs of returning 
vigor, and feel confident that in a few days more I 
shall be able to leave the sick-bed. We can then plan 
and work together in preparing for the journey and 
the happy event.” 

She smoothed the pillow, pressed a gentle kiss upon 
his brow, and left the room. In her own retreat she 
read again the letter, and then she fell to “dreaming, 
dreaming, dreaming.” But the song she sang was 
not from her lips; it was down deep in the satisfied 
heart, 


THE LOG CABIN METAMORPHOSED. 269 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

THE LOG CABIN METAMORPHOSED. 

There’s a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told, 
When two, that are linked in one heavenly tie, 

With heart never changing, and brow never cold. 

Love on thro’ all ills, and love on till they die. 

One hour of a passion so sacred is worth 

Whole ages of heartless and wandering bliss ; 

And oh ! if there be an Elysium on earth. 

It is this — it is this !” 

— Moore. 

September has come, and the journey of Katie 
Gardiner and her uncle has been made. Once more 
in Corinth, in the embrace of her mother, and sur- 
rounded by the many loving friends made during the 
eventful preceding year, Katie is as radiantly happy 
as she is beautiful. 

Jared Gardiner in fitting words made amends to 
Mrs. Brannan for his long years of obstinate unkind- 
ness and unreasonable bitterness. He was now a 
changed man, and readily gained the esteem and 
friendship of all of his niece’s associates. In honor 
of Katie’s return, Judge Triston arranged for a social 
party, to which all her friends were bidden. The oc- 
casion, he said, was specially designed to give the Old 
Maids’ Club an opportunity to take action in reference 


2/0 


HELENA. 


to the treason of one or more of the members in the 
proposed abjuration of the oath of spinsterhood. On 
the evening of the party there were gathered all who 
had been present at the two former open meetings of 
the club, except Herman S. Clark. He, as has been 
before intimated, was now in prison garb, undergoing 
just punishment for his crimes. His name was never 
m.entioned. He had passed out from the association 
and thought of those of whom he was unworthy, and, 
Judas-like, in the betrayal of his friends, had gone to 
his own place. 

James St. Clair and Lizzie Gage came together, and 
there were ominous looks and shaking of heads, which 
seemed to portend suspicions of further desertions 
from the Old Maids’ Club. John Gage and his wife, 
Lena (the first deserter), who were now the happy 
possessors of a blue-eyed baby, christened Harvey, in 
honor of the hero of our story, were among the early 
arrivals. In looking for Rose German, whose bright 
wit, happy face and sweet voice had enlivened every 
gathering, we will see near by the ever-agreeable, gen- 
erous and noble Frank Burton. In all the time that 
has passed, the prediction in the first chapter has been 
verified. He has been loyal and true to his blonde 
sweetheart, and jealousy’s dread pangs have never 
pierced her heart. Our affection for the sweet singer 
and her manly lover is warm and lasting. They are 
happy now, and the prospect of a bright and prosper- 
ous future is before them. With the close of this 
chapter the reader bids them adieu, at least for the 
present. Whether their further history in connection 


THE LOG CABIN METAMORPHOSED. 27 1 

with some others of this narrative is to be re- 
corded in another volume depends upon the interest 
which may be exhibited by readers in the story thus 
far told. 

Harry Thorne, the general favorite, mingled with 
young and old, adding to the pleasure of all. He had 
so far escaped Cupid’s darts. The ambition of his life 
was to excel in his chosen profession. His earnest 
application to study had, for one of his years, advanced 
him to an enviable position. A bright future was uni- 
versally predicted for the young lawyer. Full of 
energy and enthusiasm, he entered with zest into 
whatever was before him. If work, he worked; if 
play, he played. 

Judge Triston and his wife and Mrs. Brannan were 
in their element, in the midst of the gayeties of youth. 
A happier assembly could nowhere have been gath- 
ered. The clouds which had darkened the horizon 
of some during the past year had rolled away, and 
sunshine, peace and contentment filled all hearts. 

As usual. Rose German’s songs were greeted with 
enthusiastic encore, and Katie Gardiner’s recitations 
were received with rapturous applause. At length. 
Judge Triston arose and, calling for general atten- 
tion, said : 

‘‘My friends, in the midst of all the gayety, I feel 
compelled to bring up for consideration a grave mat- 
ter. An organization of great renown, one in which 
we have all taken peculiar pride, seems to be in danger 
of disintegration, and perhaps of complete dissolution. 
I refer to the Old Maids’ Club. I think some action 


2/2 


HELENA. 


should be taken in order to prevent extinction of this 
ancient order, or perhaps I should say order of 
ancients.’’ 

“Oh, Lord! what’s the matter with us now?” ex- 
claimed Rose. 

“I thought you eloquently answered that question 
at our first open meeting,” answered Lizzie Gage. 

“Judge Triston is right,” gravely asserted Frank 
Burton. “Extreme measures should be taken. We 
have present one to whom rumor at least ascribes 
kingly prerogatives — one whose heroic reign as King 
of the Raging Tads qualifies him to sit in judgment 
upon those who would ruthlessly war against our be- 
loved 'fair and forty’ institution. I call upon Harry 
Thorne to assume the judicial functions, that the ends 
of justice may be meted out to the guilty, if any such 
be found.” 

“I am surprised, Frank,” said Thorne, “that you 
should listen to wild rumor. There never were any 
Raging Tads, and consequently they never had any 
king; and to ascribe kingly attributes to me is ridicu- 
lous, for, with all my frantic and desperate efforts, I 
have never been able to erect a throne in even a 
single fair one’s heart.” 

“Judge Thorne, come and take the seat of justice. 
It is the will of the majority, that must ever rule in this 
land,” and with these words Judge Triston led him to 
a large armchair. 

Assuming an air of great dignity, Thorne called out, 
“Order in the court. Who are the accused, and what 
is the charge?” 


THE LOG CABIN METAMORPHOSED 


273 


*‘We have strong evidence against Katie Gardiner, 
and suspicious circumstances implicate Rose German 
and Lizzie Gage as accessories in a conspiracy to 
break up the Old Maids’ Club,” announced Judge 
Triston, who assumed the role of prosecutor. 

^‘Sheriff James St. Clair, bring the prisoners before 
me. 

Katie, Rose and Lizzie were promptly presented. 

“Do you wish counsel?” asked Thorne. 

“Yes; but we are unable to pay for it.” 

“I appoint John Gage to represent the defense. 
Now, Mr. Prosecutor, state your case.” 

“Your Honor, we are prepared to introduce proof 
that Katie Gardiner has unblushingly announced that 
she is about to enter the state of matrimony — a state 
at war with every principle of the order of the ancients; 
and we will undertake to prove also that Rose German 
and Lizzie Gage are aiding and abetting this treason- 
able design, and that they contemplate at an early day 
following her example in renouncing allegiance to the 
state of spinsterdom.” 

“What has the defense to say?” 

“Your Honor,” said Gage, “we admit the charge as 
to Katie Gardiner, but plead, in justification, circum- 
stances over which she had no control. If she is ac- 
quitted, the accessories also go free. We enter plea of 
justification, and wish to introduce James and Harvey 
St. Clair as witnesses.” 

“Proceed.” 

James St. Clair was brought forward. 

“Please state whether or not you, in company with 


274 


HELENA. 


Herman Clark, Lena Barnard and Lizzie Gage, some- 
thing over a year ago, visited, at night, a fortune- 
teller at the log cabin on the cliff.” 

“I did.” 

'"Who suggested and requested that you and those 
named go there on that particular night?” 

'^My brother, Harvey.” 

‘‘Were any others at the cabin when your party ar- 
rived?” 

“I saw none.” 

“Did any others arrive afterwards, and who?” 

“Yes; Harry Thorne, Katie Gardiner, Frank Bur- 
ton and Rose German came there.” 

“Did your brother arrange for those to be there 
that night?” 

“He did not. Neither of us knew they were com- 
ing.” 

“Were there any special features of interest in the 
fortunes told that night?” 

“Yes; the effect of the seer’s deliverances to both 
Lena Barnard and Katie Gardiner was dramatic and 
startling. The fortune-teller described their lovers 
and gave the initials of their names.” 

“Stand aside. Harvey St. Clair will please take the 
witness chair.” 

“You have heard the testimony of your brother 
James. Can you corroborate all that he has said 
transpired at the cabin?” 

“I can.” 

“How do you know what took place?” 

“I was there.” 


THE LOG CABIN METAMORPHOSED. 2/5 


“You there exclaimed Thorne. “Here is a clear 
case of perjury. The Court has personal knowledge 
of who was present on that memorable occasion.” 

Katie, Rose, Lena, Lizzie and Frank looked at 
each other in blank amazement. A peculiar smile on 
the face of Harvey St. Clair intensified their bewil- 
derment. 

“The Court thinks it has knowledge, but it hasn’t,” 
replied Gage; then, addressing the witness, he asked: 

“Did you see and hear everything that transpired in 
the cabin on the night referred to?” 

“I did.” 

“Please explain how that could be.” 

“I was sitting on the fortune-teller’s cot, which was 
hid by a thin curtain. I was very close behind the 
chair of the seer. I knew my brother and his com- 
panions were coming, but did not know that the party 
from Corinth would be there. My object was hon- 
orable. For a good purpose, I was playing fortune- 
teller myself that night. The strange-looking being in 
the chair said and did as I had instructed him.” 

“Aha!” exclaimed Katie. “Then you are the one 
responsible for the strange words which have mystified 
us so long?” 

“Yes, but only accidentally. Some exclamations of 
mine as I saw you unexpectedly enter gave the for- 
tune-teller a clew. For his own amusement he de- 
scribed me and wrote the initials ‘H. S. C.’on the chart. 
I did not arrange for that part at all, as I had no 
knowledge of your coming there.” 

“I ask the Court to stop the witness from making 


2/6 


HELENA. 


side remarks to the accused, and to answer only ques- 
tions propounded.^^ 

“What did the fortune-teller say concerning the 
future of Katie Gardiner?’^ 

“He said the crisis of her life was just at hand — that 
the one with whose fortunes her destiny was to be 
linked was near by.” 

“Your honor, I submit my case,” said John Gage. 
“I have shown that the accused had no control over 
the circumstances and environments of her life. Like 
a lamb to the slaughter she was led. The oracle spoke 
and the irrevocable decree went forth, debarring her 
from continuing in the state of single blessedness. 
I ask acquittal on the ground of justification.” 

“I will have to hold the prisoner over, and require 
that she enter into the bonds of matrimony for her 
safe appearance in the high Court of Love.” 

“Although the trial is now over, I should like to ask 
a question of the last witness. Were you alone be- 
hind the curtain in the cabin that night?” 

“No.” 

“Who was with you?” 

“The distinguished counsel for the defense, Mr. 
John Gage.” 

“Oh, you wretch,” exclaimed Lena to John. “If I 
had known you witnessed my actions that night, my 
name would be Barnard now and not Gage.” 

“Ain’t you glad you didn’t know?” 

“Yes,” she answered, with a bright, sweet smile, 
“else, my darling, modest lover might never have pro- 
posed.” 


The log cabin metamorphosed. 277 

When nearly all the guests had departed, Katie, 
who was standing in a group composed of her uncle, 
her mother and Mr. and Mrs. Judge Triston, called 
Harvey St. Clair and said: 

“I have a strange request to make. Will you grant 
it?’^ 

“Yes; I know I can agree to anything you desire.” 

“I wish our marriage to take place in the log cabin 
on the cliff.” 

“In a cellar or a garret; it’s all the same to me, so I 
get you,” answered St. Clair with loving, happy look. 

Judge Triston and his wife began to make objections, 
but Jared Gardiner interrupted, saying: 

“Please let her have her own way. I will see that 
the cabin is adorned into a bower of loveliness and 
made a fit temple for the sacred rites. The reception can 
be given here after the ceremony.” 

And so it was arranged. A fortnight later, on a 
beautiful September afternoon, the log cabin witnessed 
a touching and inspiring scene. A rich carpet cov- 
ered the floor, and the finest drapery hung upon the 
walls. Autumn leaves, evergreen plants and fragrant 
flowers filled every nook. Not a chink or log was to 
be seen. Canopied over all were boughs of trees bent 
and twined together. It was a chamber of exquisite 
taste and beauty. At the appointed hour, carriages 
brought the small and select company invited. Harry 
Thorne, as best man; Frank Burton, James St. Clair, 
Rose German and Lizzie Gage, as attendants of bride 
and groom, filled their offices to their own satisfaction 
and to that of every one else. 


HELENA, 


^78 

The bride was fittingly arrayed for the time and 
place and presented a picture of unsurpassed loveliness 
as she stood beside the handsome, noble man to whom 
she had given all the wealth of her heart’s love. 

Dr. Colyar performed the ceremony in the happiest 
style. His reference to the surroundings as typical of the 
bower of love into which their lives had entered was 
most eloquent and touching. Congratulations that fol- 
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spot where the fortune-teller’s strange words had been 
uttered, where the confessions of Carter had been 
made, where the humiliation of Clark had been wit- 
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illness and desire for reconciliation had been gained, 
was now the place of the fullness and completeness of 
all the hopes and longings of the two souls now and 
forever blended into one. Here we bid them adieu. 

Farewell ! — a word that hath been and must be — 

A sound that makes us linger — yet, farewell I” 


THE END. 



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